The 

Korea  Pentecost 

And  Other  Experiences  on  the 
Mission  Field 


By 

WILLIAM  NEWTON  BLAIR 


r 


* 


PRINTED  FOR  USE  OF  THE  BOARD  AND  MISSIONS 


I 


a 


The  Board  ol  Foreign  Missions 
of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  U.  S.  A. 
No.  156  Fifth  Avenue 
New  York 


The 

Korea  Pentecost 

And  Other  Experiences  on  the 
M ission  Field 


By 

WILLIAM  NEWTON  BLAIR 


* 


PRINTED  FOR  USE  OF  THE  BOARD  AND  MISSIONS 


0 


The  Board  o(  Foreign  Missions 
ol  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  U.  S.  A. 
No.  156  Fifth  Avenue 
New  York 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/koreapentecostOOblai 


Table  of  Contents 


Chapter 

Page 

I. 

First  Impressions 

. 5 

II. 

Korea’s  Preparation  for  the  Gospel  . 

. 10 

III. 

Py eng  Yang 

. 15 

IV. 

Beginning  to  Preach 

. 19 

V. 

Caring  for  the  Churches  .... 

. 24 

VI. 

An  Ju 

. 28 

VII. 

An  Ju  (continued) 

. 33 

VIII. 

The  Church’s  Testing  .... 

. 38 

IX. 

The  Pyeng  Yang  Class  .... 

. 42 

X. 

The  Korean  Pentecost 

. 45 

XI. 

The  Results 

. 48 

As  I have  traveled  over  the  country  in  my  year  of  furlough, 
I have  found  everywhere  the  greatest  interest  in  the  progress  of 
the  Gospel  in  Korea,  and  particularly  a desire  to  know  and  under- 
stand the  facts  concerning  the  great  revival  of  1907.  To  meet 
this  desire,  I have  put  into  writing  my  own  recollections  of  the 
revival.  At  first  I planned  to  write  only  of  that  great  outpouring 
of  God’s  Spirit,  but  the  events  connected  with  that  time  were  so 
dramatic  and  unusual  that  I feared  they  would  be  misunderstood 
without  some  account  of  the  previous  history  of  the  Church  and 
the  condition  of  national  affairs.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  I 
have  recorded  first  something  of  the  history  of  the  Church  from 
its  beginning  and  some  of  my  own  experiences  with  the  Korean 
Christians  during  the  eight  happy  years  I have  lived  and  worked 
among  them. 


W.  N.  B. 


CHAPTER  I 

First  Impressions 

There  were  six  of  us  who  sailed  together  from  San  Francisco 
for  Korea  in  August  of  1901  on  a Japanese  ship,  the  America 
Maru,  going  out  for  the  first  time  as  missionaries  under  the  Board 
of  Foreign  Missions  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  United 
States  of  America.  Like  most  who  go  a-sailing  for  the  first  time, 
we  were  seasick  the  first  day,  but  the  second  morning  found  the 
sea  calm  and  beautiful.  We  were  sailing  straight  on  towards  the 
rim  of  a great,  strange  basin  filled  level  full  of  blue-green  solid- 
looking water  that  resisted  the  vessel  and  foamed  for  miles  along 
our  track.  We  seemed  to  be  much  lower  than  the  distant  horizon, 
sailing  continually  upward,  never  reaching  the  top.  There  were 
many  Japanese  and  Chinese  on  the  lower  decks,  both  fore  and  aft. 
Most  were  squatted  in  the  sunlight  recovering  from  the  night’s 
seasickness.  A few  had  already  spread  their  blankets  in  sheltered 
spots,  playing  steadily  for  money  with  long,  slender  cards  or  with 
dice. 

Presently  we  discovered  a man,  seated  apart  from  the  rest, 
dressed  in  the  oddest  costume  I had  ever  seen.  He  wore  a long, 
loose  coat  of  white  silk  with  sleeves  nearly  a foot  wide.  On  his 
head  was  a shiny  black  hat  with  a stiff  rim  of  three  or  four  inches 
and  a high  crown  in  the  middle  like  an  undergrown  opera  hat. 
It  was  made,  as  we  afterwards  learned,  of  closely  woven  horse 
hair,  starched  stiff  and  glistening  and  so  transparent  that  one 
could  make  out  the  shape  of  his  peculiar  hair  dress  with  the  knot 
of  black  hair,  stuck  through  with  a white  pin,  running  up  under 
the  crown  of  the  hat.  From  what  we  had  read  we  knew  he  must 
be  a Korean  and,  going  as  we  were  to  give  our  lives  for  Korea,  we 
were  at  once  greatly  interested  and  tried  to  talk  to  him;  but  he 
knew  little  English  and  we  no  Korean,  so  we  made  poor  progress. 
The  next  day,  however,  we  found  a Japanese  on  board  who  said 
he  thought  he  could  help  us.  Going  down  together,  we  said  what 
we  wished  to  the  Korean  and  the  Japanese  gentleman  wrote  it  out 
in  those  mysterious  characters  that  adorn  a Chinese  laundry  shop, 
the  classical  language  of  the  Chinese,  which  the  Chinese  and  the 


6 


Japanese  and  the  Koreans  all  use  in  common  much  as  Europe 
used  to  use  Latin.  As  our  Japanese  friend  wrote,  the  Korean 
stood  looking  over  his  shoulder.  Presently  we  could  see  intelli- 
gence dawning  in  the  man’s  face.  He  stretched  out  his  hand  and 
took  the  pen  and  wrote  back  in  answer,  “My  name  is  Whang.  I 
am  not  a Christian,  but  I am  glad  that  you  are  going  to  Korea  to 
help  my  people.” 

Every  day  after  that,  Mr.  Whang  came  up  on  the  upper  deck 
and  taught  us  words  out  of  the  Korean  language.  There  were 
six  of  us,  as  I have  said,  in  our  party  going  to  Korea  as  mission- 
aries: Mr.  E.  H.  Miller  and  Mr.  W.  M.  Barrett,  Miss  Mattie 
Henry  and  Miss  Mary  Barrett,  and  Mrs.  Blair  and  myself.  How 
eager  we  were  to  begin,  like  children  just  starting  to  school,  unable 
to  realize  the  herculean  task  before  us  and  hence  courageous  to 
begin.  I have  a note  book  with  nearly  two  hundred  words  in  it 
which  I caught  from  the  lips  of  Mr.  Whang.  Many  are  incorrect, 
some  impossible  of  identification ; nevertheless  the  book  is  exceed- 
ingly precious,  my  first  steps  in  the  Korean  language. 

By  and  by  we  came  to  Japan,  first  to  Yokohama  and  then  to 
Kobe.  Here  we  changed  steamers.  Mr.  Whang  went  one  way 
and  we  another,  and  I have  never  seen  our  friend  again  to  this  day 
and  do  not  know  whether  he  is  a Christian  or  not;  but  I shall 
always  be  greatly  indebted  to  him.  For  one  thing,  just  before 
he  went  away,  he  came  bringing  each  of  us  a motto  written  with 
his  own  hand  and  a white  silk  handkerchief.  We  learned  then 
and  there,  what  I have  ever  since  found  to  be  true  of  the  Koreans, 
that  they  are  a loving,  generous  hearted  people,  knowing,  it  seems 
to  me,  even  before  they  have  heard  the  words  of  the  Master,  that 
it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  it  is  to  receive. 

Our  new  boat  was  not  an  America  Maru,  not  even  to  be 
compared  with  the  well-equipped  ferry  that  connects  Japan  and 
Korea  today.  It  was  one  of  those  little  freighters  that  swarm 
along  the  cost  of  Japan  and  Korea,  with  a Japanese  crew  and 
captain  and  “foreign  chow”  after  a fashion. 

For  a day  we  sailed  down  the  beautiful  inland  Sea  of  Japan, 
with  its  background  of  pine-clad  mountains  and  waterfalls  and 
numberless  islands,  with  great  curved,  carved  roofs  of  temples 
rising  out  of  black,  mysterious  forests,  villages,  villages  all  the 
way  with  their  myriad  white-sailed  fishing  crafts  blocking  the 
water  front  or  flocking  to  and  from  the  sea. 

Finally  we  reached  Shimonoseki,  the  last  Japanese  port,  and 
at  sunset  turned  our  faces  westward  to  cross  the  Korean  Strait, 
the  last  stage  of  our  journey.  The  Korean  Strait  is  usually  rough 


like  the  English  Channel.  That  night,  how  it  stormed!  We  lay 
all  night  desperately  sick,  longing  for  the  morning.  At  last  morn- 
ing came  and  a quieter  sea  told  us  we  were  nearing  land.  Weak 
and  dizzy,  we  climbed  to  the  deck  and  looked,  and  there  before 
us  were  the  hills  of  Korea,  bare,  brown,  desolate,  as  hopeless 
looking  hills  as  I had  ever  seen,  without  a tree  upon  them,  in 
marked  contrast  with  the  beautiful  green  of  the  Japan  we  had  left 
behind.  We  could  make  out  here  and  there  on  the  hillsides  white 
objects  that  looked  in  the  distance  like  tombstones.  “No,”  some- 
one said,  “they  are  not  tombstones,  but  Koreans  cutting  the 
brushwood  and  even  the  grass,  and  binding  them  in  bundles  to 
use  as  fuel  in  the  open  fireplaces  underneath  their  houses.” 

After  breakfast  we  went  ashore  in  a “sam-pan”  to  Fusan, 
the  port  of  Korea.  Fusan  was  not  then  worthy  to  be  called  a city. 
It  was  just  a collection  of  mud- walled,  straw-thatched  huts  with 
here  and  there  a tile-roofed  house  among  them,  all  so  low  that 
one  could  stand  in  the  street  and  put  his  hand  on  the  roof  of  any 
one  of  them.  It  was  hardly  fair  to  speak  of  streets  at  all.  Most 
of  the  highways  are  narrow  alleys  running  zigzag  in  and  out  among 
the  houses.  We  met  many  Koreans  in  the  streets  who  turned  to 
stare  as  we  passed  by.  A few  of  the  men  were  clean,  but  most  of 
them  wore  soiled  white  garments  with  dirty  head-bands  and  dis- 
heveled hair.  The  children,  playing  naked  in  the  streets,  fled 
screaming  at  our  approach,  and  old  women  with  faces  wrinkled 
and  tanned  like  leather  hastened  out  of  their  houses  to  see  what 
was  the  matter,  with  frightened  babies  on  their  backs,  not  stopping 
to  put  on  an  overskirt  over  their  padded  trowrsers.  Some  wore 
short  jackets  that  covered  a part  of  the  breast.  Many  came  out 
w ithout  their  jackets,  just  as  they  had  been  working  in  the  kitchen. 
And  the  dogs  wrormed  out  of  little  square  holes  underneath  the 
walls  in  bands  and  set  up  a frenzy  of  barking.  Korean  dogs 
strenuously  object  to  Westerners.  In  all  the  years  that  I have 
been  in  Korea  I have  been  able  to  make  friends  with  but  one 
Korean  dog  and  he  appeared  to  have  foreign  blood  in  him.  Even 
the  heathen  children  in  Pyeng  Yang  will  come  out  and  bow’  down 
before  us  with  their  pretty  “Pyeng-an  ha-sim-neka?”  (“Are  you  in 
peace?”)  but  the  dogsobject  to  us  just  as  violently  as  they  did  nine 
years  ago.  In  the  dead  of  the  night,  no  matter  how  quietly  I may 
try  to  slip  through  the  village  back  of  my  house,  the  dogs  will  smell 
me  out  and  arouse  the  village  with  their  howling.  The  Koreans 
say  that  we  foreigners  have  an  offensive  odor  to  which  the  dogs 
object.  There,  in  Fusan,  too,  for  the  first  time,  we  sawr  Korean 
pigs,  those  scavengers  of  Asiatic  cities,  with  their  long  noses,  thin 


8 


backs  and  bellies  dragging  on  the  ground.  No  wonder  Moses 
forbade  the  children  of  Israel  to  eat  the  flesh  of  swine.  We  never 
care  to  eat  pork  in  Korea.  The  city  had  no  sewerage  whatever, 
the  filth  from  the  houses  coming  out  in  a slow  moving  green  stream 
into  open  gutters. 

It  was  August,  the  hot  season  of  alternating  rain  and  blister- 
ing sunshine,  and  the  sun  with  all  its  noonday  strength  blazed 
down  upon  the  rain-soaked  ground  until  it  fairly  steamed,  and  the 
stench  went  up  like  a cloud  from  the  city.  Weakened  by  the 
night’s  seasickness,  we  could  scarcely  resist  the  impulse  to  turn 
back  to  our  ship  and  return  to  the  beautiful  America,  whence  we 
had  come.  Then  it  was  that  we  thanked  God  for  the  Korean 
gentleman  we  had  met  on  the  America  Maru.  We  knew  that 
all  the  Koreans  were  not  as  dirty  and  hopeless  as  these  people, 
but  somewhere  back  behind  those  barren  mountains  were  men 
like  Whang;  so  we  took  courage  and  journeyed  on. 

Today  there  is  a railroad  from  Fusan  to  Seoul,  the  capital, 
and  on  along  the  west  coast  as  far  as  Wei  Ju.  This  was  yet  to 
come  in  1901.  Leaving  Fusan  that  evening,  we  proceeded  around 
the  southern  end  of  Korea  on  the  same  Japanese  ship  that  brought 
us  over  from  Japan,  and  came  in  the  evening  of  the  second  day  to 
Mok-po,  a small  port  on  the  southwest  corner  of  the  peninsula 
where  the  Southern  Presbyterians  have  a mission  station.  We 
went  ashore  in  the  dark  and  could  see  little  of  the  place  by  the  dim 
light  that  filtered  through  the  paper  windows.  Passing  through 
the  town,  we  crossed  what  seemed  to  be  a great  mud-flat  and  came 
to  Dr.  Owen’s  house.  How  good  it  was  to  see  an  American  home 
again  and  the  light  streaming  through  glass  windows.  Dr.  Owen 
gave  us  a true  southern  welcome  and  took  us  to  see  the  Korean 
Church,  a building  in  native  style  about  twenty  feet  by  forty  feet, 
with  white  paper  on  the  walls  and  clean  mats  on  the  floor.  A 
curtain  divided  the  room  in  two  sections.  It  was  prayer  meeting 
evening  and  about  twenty  men  were  seated  on  one  side  and  about 
twenty  women  on  the  other,  not  dressed  in  soiled  garments  like 
the  Koreans  we  had  seen  in  Fusan,  but  clothed  in  spotless  white. 
Some  one  was  praying  as  we  entered,  and  they  had  all  fallen  for- 
ward until  their  foreheads  rested  on  the  mat  floor  in  reverential 
Oriental  fashion. 

After  the  prayer,  Dr.  Owen  told  them  who  we  were  and  it 
broke  up  the  meeting.  They  all  crowded  forward  eager  to  tell 
us  how  glad  they  were  that  we  had  come  so  great  a distance  to 
help  the  Korean  people.  I shall  never  forget  one  old  mother,  who 
took  both  my  hands  in  hers  and  poured  a stream  of  meaningless 


9 


words  in  my  ear;  but  the  tears  in  her  eyes  and  the  love  in  her  face 
needed  no  interpretation.  We  often  know  a Christian  man  from 
a heathen,  even  before  he  speaks,  by  his  changed  countenance. 
We  never  have  any  difficulty  in  recognizing  a Christian  old  woman. 
All  her  life  long  she  has  been  in  ignorance  and  virtual  bondage, 
scarcely  as  valuable  to  her  husband  as  the  ox  that  plows  his  field, 
rising  in  the  dark  to  cook  the  meals  for  her  lord  and  master,  eating 
after  he  has  finished  of  whatever  remains,  toiling,  often  with  a 
baby  on  her  back,  not  only  in  the  house,  but  frequently  in  the 
field  with  the  men,  unwelcomed  at  birth,  unloved  through  life 
and  with  no  hope  of  a better  world  beyond,  living  continually  in 
fear  of  the  demons  that  people  earth  and  sky,  afraid  to  live  and 
more  afraid  still  to  die.  When  to  such  an  old  Korean  woman 
just  about  to  pass  out  into  the  unknown  terrors  beyond  conies 
the  message  of  God’s  love  and  forgiveness  and  of  a home  in  heaven 
and  she  understands  enough  to  know  that  God  loves  her  and  gave 
His  Son  in  her  stead,  all  the  glory  of  it  fills  her  soul  to  overflowing 
and  shines  forth  like  sunshine,  beautifying  her  old  face  with  the 
love  of  Jesus. 

That  night  at  Mok-po,  when  the  Korean  Christians  gathered 
around  us  in  welcome,  in  a moment  the  dread  and  feeling  of 
strangeness,  the  impossibility  of  getting  behind  the  mask  that 
masks  an  Oriental’s  feelings,  all  fell  away,  and  I have  always  felt 
since  then  that  I was  just  as  close  to  a Korean  Christian  as  to  an 
American  brother. 


CHAPTER  II 

Korea’s  Preparation  for  the  Gospel 

From  Mok-po  we  journeyed  north  along  the  west  coast,  in 
and  out  among  the  ten  thousand  islands  that  form  the  Korean 
Archipelago.  The  west  coast,  in  marked  contrast  with  the  for- 
bidding eastern  coast,  is  very  beautiful.  Some  of  the  islands  are 
large,  with  villages  in  sheltered  valleys;  nearly  all  are  wooded  and 
bright  with  flowers.  The  mountains  in  the  western  half  of  the 
peninsula  are  low,  with  wide,  fertile  valleys  between  and  many 
rivers  flowing  into  the  Yellow  Sea. 

Korea  is  about  650  miles  long  and  150  miles  wide,  lying 
between  the  thirty-fourth  and  forty-second  parallels,  about  the 
same  latitude  as  the  central  portion  of  the  United  States.  In  the 
north  the  climate  is  cold  with  two  feet  of  snow  on  the  ground  all 
winter.  The  south  is  like  southern  Japan,  semi-tropical  with 
bamboo  thickets. 

The  country  abounds  in  small  game,  with  deer  and  black  bear 
in  the  north  and  wild  boar,  leopards  and  a few  tigers  in  the  central 
and  southern  parts.  Nearly  all  the  grains  and  fruits  of  America 
are  found  in  Korea.  Wheat,  cane,  corn,  barley,  millet,  buckwheat, 
tobacco,  ginseng,  cotton,  beans,  potatoes  and  melons  all  do  well; 
but  the  staple  is  rice.  Apples,  pears,  peaches,  plums,  grapes, 
cherries,  persimmons  and  berries  of  all  sorts  are  easily  grown;  but 
the  native  varieties  are  usually  of  poor  quality,  except  persimmons, 
which  are  exceptionally  fine.  The  difficulty  in  the  past  of  pro- 
tecting fruit  from  thieves  has  greatly  hindered  its  culture.  Korea 
is  naturally  a fruit  country,  and  some  day  her  hills  will  be  covered 
with  orchards  and  vineyards. 

The  Korean  people  resemble  the  Chinese  and  Japanese  in 
appearance,  but  are  distinct  from  either  nation.  Their  language, 
though  containing  many  Chinese  derivatives,  is  a separate  root 
language,  difficult  to  master,  but  sweet  and  musical  to  the  ear. 
Korea  has  a fairly  reliable  history  running  back  three  thousand 
years,  with  age  upon  age  of  uncertain  myths  still  beyond. 

The  Koreans  are  naturally  a poetic,  deeply-spiritual  people. 
They  love  to  study  and  ponder  the  wise  sayings  of  the  sages. 
Even  the  humble  homes  of  the  farmers  often  have  classical  quo- 


11 


tations  written  on  walls  and  doorposts.  A surprisingly  large 
proportion  of  the  people  can  read  and  write  not  only  their  own 
language,  but  the  classical  language  of  the  Chinese  as  well.  But 
Korea’s  great  gift  is  her  religious  endowment,  which  amounts  to  a 
religious  genius,  not  so  much  in  the  invention  as  in  the  practice 
of  religion. 

Although  Confucianism  originated  in  China,  the  Koreans 
have  out-Chinesed  the  Chinese  in  practicing  some  of  its  precepts. 
The  essence  of  Confucianism  is  reverence  for  established  authority 
and  order,  above  all,  that  the  son  should  honor  his  father.  To  the 
literal-minded  Korean  this  has  meant  that  he  should  not  dishonor 
the  past  by  attempting  to  improve  upon  it.  Men  have  been  put 
to  death  in  Korea  for  daring  to  make  some  new  invention. 
Gripped  by  this  dominant  religious  idea,  Korea  has  stood  stock 
still  amidst  the  current  of  the  centuries  while  China,  in  spite  of 
herself,  moved  slowly  on  until  she  was  modern  compared  with 
Korea.  I have  seen  images  in  ancient  Chinese  temples  with  the 
same  topknot  and  general  style  of  clothing  that  the  Koreans  wear 
today,  proving  that  centuries  ago  the  Chinese  and  Korean  customs 
were  similar.  It  is  not  necessarily  a sign  of  weakness  for  a nation 
to  stand  still  as  Korea  has  done.  The  forces  of  progress  are  well- 
nigh  irresistible.  A strong  religious  conception  and  an  ability 
to  realize  in  practice  the  faith  she  professed  aided  Korea  to  remain 
immovable  for  three  thousand  years. 

Buddhism  came  to  Korea  from  India  by  the  way  of  China  in 
the  fourth  century  of  the  Christian  era.  It  contained  much  that 
was  a distinct  advance  over  the  old  Aninism.  Confucianism 
taught  right  conduct  as  an  ethical  system,  Buddhism  sought  to 
enforce  it  by  religious  authority.  It  provided  a heaven  for  saints 
and  a fearful  hell  for  sinners.  A door  of  communion  with  the 
spirit-world  was  opened  up.  Prayer  and  sacrifice  were  the  keys 
that  unlocked  the  doors  of  the  inner  temple  where  forgiveness 
might  be  found,  and  peace  enjoyed  forever.  As  she  has  always 
done,  when  once  her  faith  was  won,  Korea  entered  into  Buddhism 
whole-heartedly.  She  dotted  her  hills  with  Buddhist  temples  and 
gave  rich  lands  for  their  endowment.  Korean  Buddhist  priests 
crossed  over  the  sea  to  Japan  and  converted  the  Japanese  to  Bud- 
dhism. It  was  not  a military  but  a spiritual  conquest,  won  as 
spiritual  conquests  are  usually  won,  by  martyr’s  blood  and  irre- 
sistible devotion. 

Now  we  come  to  a special  instance  of  God’s  providence. 
Buddhism  is  dead  in  Korea.  Go  to  China  and  you  will  find  the 
temples  in  good  repair,  go  to  Japan  and  in  every  village  you  will 


12 


find  the  temples  flourishing,  their  roofs  looming  high  above  the 
houses,  you  will  hear  the  tinkle,  tinkle  of  the  bells  and  see  the 
multitudes  pressing  through  the  gates  and  bowing  down  before 
tablets  of  wood  and  idols  of  stone,  just  as  blind  as  ever.  In  Korea 
it  is  not  so.  The  temples  are  there,  but  they  are  falling  and  in 
ruins.  There  are  holes  in  the  tiled  roofs  where  the  bats  make 
their  homes,  where  the  rainy  season  floods  come  through  and  rot 
the  wooden  pillars.  The  people  despise  the  few  shaven-headed 
priests  who  remain.  The  fact  is,  Confucianism  killed  Buddhism 
in  Korea.  After  its  first  enthusiasm  had  passed  away  and  the 
Buddhist  Church  became  rich  and  powerful,  the  priests  grew 
corrupt  and  arrogant.  Their  lazy,  immoral  lives  disgusted  the 
Korean  people,  schooled  as  they  were  in  the  high  ethics  of  Con- 
fucius, and  when  the  Buddhist  hierarchy  sought  to  interfere  with 
the  affairs  of  state,  the  government  itself  turned  upon  Buddhism 
and  gave  it  its  death  blow.  Most  of  the  temple  lands  were  taken 
away  and  the  priests  forbidden  to  enter  the  capital  city.  Today 
they  point  a finger  of  scorn  at  a Buddhist  priest,  calling  him  a 
“nom,”  a “low  down  scoundrel.” 

So  we  find  a remarkable  condition  in  Korea,  a people  naturally 
intensely  religious  without  any  intrenched  religion  with  priests 
able  to  hinder  the  progress  of  Christianity.  Confucianism,  con- 
sidered apart  from  ancestral  worship,  which  has  been  added  on, 
is  not  a religion.  It  is  a system  of  morals,  the  mosaic  law  of  that 
far  eastern  world,  the  schoolmaster,  if  you  please,  that  is  today 
leading  Korea  to  the  feet  of  the  Christ. 

One  other  condition  that  must  be  noticed  in  any  consideration 
of  the  remarkable  religious  movement  now  going  on  in  Korea  is 
her  preparation  of  suffering  and  humiliation.  The  location  of 
Korea  is  unfortunate.  Lying  midway  between  China  and  Japan 
she  has  been  for  thousands  of  years  a bone  of  contention  between 
these  two  nations,  both  claiming  suzerainty  over  her.  First 
China  would  demand  and  compel  tribute,  then  Japan  would  pour 
her  warriors  across  the  channel  and  punish  the  Koreans  for  yield- 
ing to  China.  When  these  two  nations  had  no  quarrel  with  Korea 
they  have  usually  been  at  war  with  each  other  and  have  fought 
out  their  quarrels  on  the  long  suffering  soil  of  Korea  until  the  land 
has  run  red  with  blood  again  and  again,  untff  the  poor  people, 
unable  to  resist  the  hoards  that  came  upon  them,  built  cities  of 
refuge  high  in  the  mountains,  where  they  might  flee  when  one  by 
one  their  walled  cities  fell  before  the  ruthless  invaders.  It  is  a 
mistake  to  suppose  that  the  Korean  people  are  a cowardly  people. 
Their  history  is  replete  with  records  of  heroism  and  desperate 


13 


bravery  in  defence  of  home  and  country.  They  have  simply  been 
overpowered.  The  marvel  is  that  in  spite  of  all  they  have  suffered, 
they  remain  unbroken  and  an  integral  people,  with  one  language 
and  one  blood,  numbering  today  fully  thirteen  million. 

No  wonder  Korea  is  poor.  Not  only  has  she  been  continually 
desolated  by  war,  but  her  own  government  has  been  as  worthless 
and  rotten  as  possible.  For  centuries  her  kings  have  “farmed  out” 
the  rule  to  magistrates  and  governors  who  paid  many  times  the 
salary  for  the  office,  and  then  squeezed  back  the  amount  and  many 
times  more  from  the  people  by  unjust  methods.  It  has  been  as 
much  as  a man’s  life  was  worth  for  it  to  become  known  that  he  had 
accumulated  anything,  unless  he  had  powerful  friends  to  protect 
him.  If  the  robbers  neglected  to  come  down  from  the  mountains 
and  take  it  away,  the  robber  magistrate  would  send  out  his  “run- 
ners,” arrest  him  on  some  trumped-up  charge,  throw  him  into 
prison  and  beat  him  till  he  would  be  glad  to  pay  all  that  he  had  for 
his  life. 

Recently  the  greatest  misfortune  of  all,  at  least  in  Korean 
eyes,  has  befallen  their  country.  After  the  Japanese-Russian  war, 
the  Japanese  withdrew  a large  part  of  their  victorious  army  from 
Manchuria  back  into  Korea.  Japanese  soldiers  were  posted  in 
every  city  and  hamlet.  The  few  Korean  troops  were  forcibly 
disbanded  and  the  common  people  compelled  to  give  up  their 
guns.  Even  the  old  flint-lock  guns  that  the  mountaineers  used 
for  tiger  hunting  were  collected  and  burned  in  heaps,  where  I have 
seen  the  mass  of  their  tangled  barrels  lying.  A treaty  was  secured 
from  the  Korean  government  giving  Japan  absolute  control  of 
Korea’s  foreign  affairs  and  virtual  control  of  the  internal  admin- 
istration. 

It  is  easy  enough  for  an  outsider  to  look  on  and  philosophi- 
cally remark  that  it  was  inevitable,  that  it  was  either  Russia  or 
Japan  and  better  Japan  than  Russia.  It  is  not  so  easy  for  the 
sufferer  to  see  God’s  hand  in  the  malady.  I have  no  political 
purpose  in  writing  this  narrative  and  am  merely  trying  to  show 
conditions  and  how  these  conditions  have  conspired  in  God’s 
providence  to  work  out  salvation  for  Korea.  The  simple  truth 
is  that  the  Koreans  are  a broken-hearted  people.  Corrupt  and 
unworthy  as  their  old  government  was,  they  love  it  just  as  we 
love  ours,  love  it  all  the  more,  no  doubt,  in  proportion  as  it  seems 
to  be  taken  away  from  them.  It  is  pitiable  to  see  them  grieve,  to 
see  strong  men  weep  over  national  loss.  They  come  to  us  and 
say,  “Is  there  any  country  so  poor,  so  unfortunate  as  ours?”  (But 
it  means  much  that  their  eyes  are  open.  Formerly  they  were 


14 


proud  and  arrogant,  they  were  “wretched  and  miserable  and  poor 
and  blind  and  naked”  and  knew  it  not.  Now  they  know  just 
where  they  stand.  They  know  they  are  despised  and  rejected. 
The  arrow  has  entered  Korea’s  soul.  Her  spirit  is  broken.  She 
sits  today  in  the  dust,  mourning,  not  only  her  present  misfortune, 
but  her  past  sins;  just  in  the  attitude  God  can  bless.  Once  more 
His  hands  are  stretched  out  in  blessing  over  a stricken  people, 
“Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Blessed  are  they  that  mourn  for  they  shall  be  comforted.”  Korea’s 
great  preparation  for  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  is  the  preparation 
of  a broken  heart.  “The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a broken  spirit;  a 
broken  and  a contrite  heart,  O God,  thou  wilt  not  despise.” 


CHAPTER  III 

Pyenq  Yang 

Many  writers  have  told  the  thrilling  story  of  the  introduction 
of  Protestant  Christianity  into  Korea.  It  is  a significant  fact 
that  two  great  American  churches,  the  Methodist  and  Presby- 
terian, were  led  to  begin  work  in  Korea  at  about  the  same  time, 
and  that  largely  upon  these  churches  and  the  reinforcements  that 
have  come  from  the  American  Methodist  Church  South  and  the 
American  Southern  Presbyterian  Church  and  the  Canadian  and 
Australian  Presbyterian  Churches  has  fallen  the  great  burden 
and  privilege  of  bringing  Korea  to  Christ. 

The  pioneers  on  the  Presbyterian  side  were  Dr.  Horace  N. 
Allen,  Rev.  Horace  G.  Underwood,  D.  D.,  and  Dr.  J.  W.  Heron, 
and  on  the  Methodist  side,  Dr.  William  B.  Scranton  and  Rev. 
Harry  G.  Appenzeller.  They  were  quickly  followed  by  many 
others.  God’s  blessing  attended  the  work  from  the  beginning; 
but  the  great  awakening  undoubtedly  began  in  Pyeng  Yang,  the 
ancient  capital  of  Korea,  beautifully  located  on  the  west  bank  of 
the  Tai  Tong  River,  about  two  hundred  miles  north  of  the  present 
capital. 

Different  missionaries  had  early  visited  Pyeng  Yang,  but  it 
was  not  till  1893  that  Rev.  Samuel  A.  Moffett  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church  and  Dr.  W.  J.  Hall  of  the  Methodist  Church  actually 
established  residences  in  the  city.  It  was  not  my  privilege  to 
know  Dr.  Hall  personally  as  he  died  in  1895,  but  his  memory  is 
fragrant  in  Pyeng  Yang.  The  Koreans  still  love  to  tell  of  his 
sweet  character  and  zeal  in  proclaiming  the  Master. 

To  Dr.  Moffett  has  fallen  the  great  privilege  and  honor  not 
only  to  be  the  founder  of  the  Pyeng  Yang  Church,  but  for  seven- 
teen years  to  be  its  guiding  spirit  and  beloved  leader.  He  has  the 
rare  ability  of  uniting  men,  not  so  much  about  himself,  as  in  the 
common  service.  God  has  gifted  him  with  wisdom  and  insight 
into  the'future  to  such  a degree  that  the  Koreans  frequently  allude 
to  him  as  a “sun-che-cha”  (“prophet”).  He  is  still  a young  man, 
with  light  hair  and  gray-blue  eyes,  little  changed,  I fancy,  from 
the  day  he  first  entered  the  city.  Stories  are  still  current  of  the 
excitement  produced.  The  rumor  spread  like  wildfire  that  a 


16 


crazy  foreigner  had  come  to  live  in  Pyeng  Yang.  Wonderful  tales 
were  told  of  his  height,  of  his  narrow  trousers,  of  his  white  eyes  and 
white  hair  and  great  beak  of  a nose.  The  Koreans  wear  huge 
trousers;  they  have  jet  black  hair  and  eyes  and  think  all  foreigners 
have  enormous  noses.  As  people  crowd  to  a circus  here  in  America 
they  crowded  to  see  Dr.  Moffett  till  they  blocked  the  road  in  front 
of  his  house  so  that  the  ox  carts  could  not  go  by.  We  are  no  longer 
objects  of  great  curiosity  in  Pyeng  Yang,  but  out  in  the  country 
districts  it  is  still  common  to  have  one’s  room  besieged.  We  grow 
hardened,  I suppose,  and  cease  to  mind  very  much  except  at  meal 
time.  Then  I always  request  my  boy  to  shut  the  paper  door  and 
window  of  my  room.  Frequently,  however,  if  I look  up  suddenly 
from  my  position  on  the  floor  in  front  of  the  little  table  on  which 
my  meal  has  been  served,  I will  find  that  several  boys,  perhaps 
men,  have  come  silently  to  the  outside,  and  pressing  moist  fingers 
to  the  paper  window,  have  .punctured  holes  and  are  staring  down 
at  me  like  the  eyes  of  disembodied  spirits.  It  gives  a man  a queer, 
creepy  sbrt  of  feeling  down  his  back.  During  my  seminary  days, 

I used  to  enjoy  going  to  Lincoln  Park  and  watching  the  keepers 
feed  the  animals.  Since  going  to  Korea,  I have  often  felt  like 
apologizing  to  the  animals. 

Among  those  who  came  to  see  Dr.  Moffett  was  a stalwart 
Korean  named  Chai  Cho-si,  who  kept  a saloon  in  the  city,  with  a 
blue  flag  split  down  the  middle  to  show  that  he  had  liquor  to  sell. 
This  man  came  many  times,  no  doubt  to  get  a good  story  to  tell 
to  the  loafers  in  his  saloon.  In  some  way  the  missionary’s  story 
got  hold  of  him  and  he  understood  enough  of  it  to  do  what  we  say 
in  Korea,  “Yasu  mit-ki-rul  chak-chung  hasso,”  beautiful  words 
they  are,  “he  decided  to  believe  in  Jesus.”  This  man  became  a 
strong  right  arm  to  Dr.  Moffett.  He  closed  his  saloon  and  gave 
much  time  to  spreading  the  doctrine.  Almost  before  they  knew 
it  there  was  a church  in  Pyeng  Yang,  a company  of  men  and 
women  professing  the  name  of  Jesus,  assembling  for  worship  on 
the  Lord’s  Day.  Then  the  magistrate  heard  of£it.  “Ah,”  he 
said,  “you  can’t  do  that  here.  If  you  worship  the  foreigners’ 
religion  how  are  you  going  to  worship  the  spirits  of  your  ancestors 
at  the  New  Year’s  time.”  This  is  the  great  cross  of  the  Korean 
Church.  Each  New  Year  every  son  of  Korea  must  go  down  upon 
his  face  before  the  tablets  that  represent  to  him  the  spirits  of  his 
dead  ancestors.  Not  to  bow  down,  not  to  offer  the  yearly  sacri- 
fice, is  to  be  guilty  of  the  greatest  sin  possible  in  Korea,  filial  impiety. 
But  Christianity  has  never  been  able  to  compromise  with  idols. 
The  Church  has  had  to  show  that  men  can  honor  parents  without 
idolatry. 


17 


The  magistrate  sent  out  his  runners  and  arrested  the  Chris- 
tians. Some  were  beaten,  some  were  threatened  with  death.  A 
mob  hurled  stones  at  the  missionary  as  he  walked  through  the 
streets.  No  one  knows  just  what  would  have  happened  if,  at 
that  juncture,  there  had  not  comedown  from  the  north  the  Chinese 
behind  their  yellow  dragon  banners.  Up  from  the  south  came  the 
Japanese,  new  armed  with  modern  rifles,  and  the  Japanese-Chinese 
war  was  on.  The  two  armies  met  in  Pyeng  Yang.  The  little 
company  of  Christians  was  scattered  like  sheep  to  the  mountains, 
as  the  early  Christians  were  scattered  at  the  time  of  the  great 
persecution  in  Jerusalem,  and  like  those  early  Christians  they 
went  everywhere  preaching  the  Gospel. 

Dr.  Moffett  was  ordered  to  return  to  Seoul,  the  capital,  by 
the  American  minister.  As  soon  as  possible  after  the  battle  at 
Pyeng  Yang,  he  went  back  bringing  several  others  with  him.  They 
found  the  city  burned  to  the  ground,  with  the  bodies  of  dead  China- 
men lying  unburied  in  the  streets.  Soon  word  went  out  to  the 
surrounding  country  that  the  missionaries  had  returned  and  the 
Christians  began  to  gather  back,  bringing  wonderful  tidings  of 
little  groups  of  Christians  springing  up  all  over  the  northland. 
God’s  Spirit  had  been  using  those  days  of  war  and  peril  to  make 
men  welcome  the  message  of  His  love  and  the  comfort  of  the 
Gospel.  Have  you  ever  seen  a fire  smoldering  in  the  ashes  on  a 
still  day  and  suddenly  a little  whirlwind  come  down  and  lift  up 
the  embers  and  scatter  them  all  around  and  here  and  there  and 
yonder  other  fires  begin  burning?  This  is  just  what  happened  in 
Korea.  There  was  a fire  God’s  Spirit  had  kindled,  burning  in 
Pyeng  Yang.  Suddenly  the  whirlwind  of  the  war  came  down  and 
lifted  it  up  and  scattered  the  fire  for  hundreds  of  miles  in  every 
direction  and  everywhere  those  living  embers  fell,  on  level  rice 
plains  near  the  sea,  in  deep  set  mountain  valleys,  other  fires  sprang 
up  and  began  to  blaze  and  spread  until  today  the  fire  of  the  Gospel 
bids  fair  to  burn  the  whole  length  and  breadth  of  the  peninsula. 

Reinforcements  were  hurried  to  Pyeng  Yang.  Every  effort 
was  made  to  conserve  the  work,  to  visit  each  new  group  of  believers. 
The  missionaries  made  long  trips  into  the  country  in  every  direc- 
tion, organizing  and  instructing  the  new  converts.  But  in  spite 
of  all  they  could  do,  though  they  lived  among  the  Koreans  till 
their  own  children  failed  to  recognize  them,  though  they  traveled 
day  and  night,  the  work  traveled  faster.  Overwhelmed,  they 
sent  out  a great  Macedonian  cry  that  has  been  ringing  up  and 
down  America,  “Come  over  and  help  us!” 

One  of  the  Pyeng  Yang  missionaries.  Rev.  W.  L.  Swallen, 


18 


came  to  America  and  to  Chicago  in  1901,  when  I was  a senior  in 
McCormick  Seminary.  One  Monday  night  he'  addressed  the 
students  and  plead  as  a man  pleads  for  his  life,  for  some  of  us  to 
go  out  and  help  take  Korea.  “Ah,”  I said,  “that  is  a great  story, 
but  I could  never  learn  that  language.”  I had  never  enjoyed 
language  work  in  either  college  or  in  the  seminary.  “Surely,”  I 
reasoned,  “if  God  wanted  me  to  go  to  the  foreign  field  he  would 
have  given  me  more  facility  in  language.”  So  I hardened  my 
heart.  One  night  about  the  midnight  hour,  Mr.  Swallen  came  to 
my  room.  It  was  not  till  nine  years  after  that  I learned  who  told 
him  about  me.  “Blair,”  he  said,  “why  don’t  you  go  to  Korea? 
Don’t  you  know  we  need  you?”  “Why,  Mr.  Swallen,”  I answered, 
“as  far  as  the  hardships  and  all  that  go,  I think  they  would  rather 
appeal  to  me;  but  that  language,  I could  never  learn  that  language.” 
“Are  you  honest?”  he  questioned.  “Is  that  the  reason  you  don’t 
volunteer?”  “Yes,”  I said,  “I  think  I am.”  “Well,”  he  said, 
“let  me  tell  you  something.  When  I was  here  in  the  Seminary, 
I flunked  in  Hebrew.  Have  you  flunked  in  Hebrew?”  “If  ever 
in  my  life  I wished  that  I might  tell  a man  that  I had  flunked  in 
anything  it  was  that  night;  but  I had  not  actually  flunked  in  He- 
brew and  had  to  admit  it.  Here  was  a man  who  said  he  had  failed 
in  language  and  yet  God  enabled  him  to  get  the  Korean  language. 
So  I found  I could  not  excuse  myself  on  this  score  any  longer. 
After  considerable  deliberation,  I wrote  a letter  to  the  young  lady 
out  in  Kansas  who  had  promised  to  share  life’s  problems  with  me, 
saying  that  I was  ready  to  volunteer  if  she  was  willing  to  go,  half 
hoping,  I am  afraid,  that  she  would  say  No.  Her  answer  was  this: 
“I  am  so  glad.  I hoped  you  would  volunteer.”  So  I sent  my  name 
to  the  Board  of  Foreign  Missions  and  was  accepted  and  went  out 
to  Korea  as  I have  already  described  in  the  opening  chapter,  going 
out  a good  deal  like  a drafted  soldier,  but  I will  never,  never  get 
through  thanking  the  good  Lord  that  I did  go,  just  when  I did, 
when  I was  so  needed,  in  time  to  share  in  the  great  Pentecostal 
movement  that  is  sweeping  Korea  into  the  Kingdom. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Beginning  to  Preach 

We  arrived  in  Seoul,  Korea,  September  12,  1901,  and  after  a 
month  of  various  mission  meetings  went  to  Pyeng  Yang  where  we 
had  been  stationed.  Of  course  our  first  task  was  to  get  the  lan- 
guage. If  I had  known  how  hard  and  how  long  a task  it  would  be 
I am  afraid  I would  have  been  more  frightened  even  than  I was 
back  in  Chicago.  It  is  one  of  those  old  Oriental  languages  over- 
burdened with  words  and  endless  endings.  Euphony  is  its  main 
law.  All  the  words  are  softened  to  harmonize  with  their  fellows. 
Each  is  dovetailed  into  the  next  till  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  tell 
where  one  word  ends  and  another  commences.  It  pours  forth  in 
a steady  stream,  a smoothly  flowing  uphill  and  downhill  sort 
of  language.  Sometimes  I would  make  the  most  ridiculous  mis- 
takes. Chopping  a word  right  in  the  middle  and  joining  it  with 
half  the  next,  I would  go  to  some  Korean  and  ask  him  what  it 
meant.  “Morogesso”  (“I  don’t  know”),  he  would  say,  and  of 
course  he  did  not,  for  no  Korean  ever  uttered  such  a combination. 

I was  almost  in  despair  when  one  Sunday  after  service  a slight, 
clean-featured  man  named  Ne  Che-su  came  to  me  and  said  some- 
thing that  I could  not  understand,  but  I could  make  a distinction 
in  the  sounds  he  uttered.  At  my  suggestion,  one  of  the  mission- 
aries asked  Mr.  Ne  to  become  my  teacher  and  he  consented.  I 
remember  well  the  first  words  he  taught  me.  I was  seated  at  my 
desk  ready  to  begin;  but  he  was  not.  “Kedo-hapsata,”  he  said, 
and  I understood  him  for  in  a moment  he  had  slipped  from  his 
place  by  my  side  to  the  floor  and  was  praying.  “Kedo-hapsata” 
(“Let’s  pray”)  and  every  morning  and  afternoon  for  three  years 
it  was  “Kedo-hapsata.”  God  sent  me  a Spirit-filled  teacher  and 
he  prayed  the  language  into  me,  prayed  and  labored  until  I was 
afraid  not  to  study  as  hard  as  I ought.  Sometimes  when  I was 
dull  of  comprehension,  he  would  act  out  the  meaning.  Once  he 
got  down  on  the  floor  and  wrapped  himself  up  in  the  carpet  in  a 
desperate  effort  to  make  me  understand  the  word  “chanda”  (“I 
sleep” ) . I have  come  to  believe  in  the  gift  of  tongues,  not  a sudden, 
miraculous  ability  to  speak  an  unknown  language.  That  would 
not  be  well  for  us  nor  for  the  people  to  whom  we  go.  We  are 


20 


ignorant  of  their  customs  and  dispositions.  Our  tempers  are  too 
unruly  and  our  tongues  too  swift.  Dumbness  at  first  is  a blessing 
to  all  concerned.  But  that  God  does  keep  His  promise,  that  He 
gives  strength  and  patience  and  to  our  great  surprise  even  pleasure 
in  studying  the  language,  I know.  Little  by  little  our  ears  are 
unstopped  and  the  tight  tied  strings  of  our  tongues  are  loosened, 
till  almost  before  we  know  it,  as  a child  begins  to  prattle  its  moth- 
er’s tongue,  we  begin  to  speak  the  language  of  the  people  about 
us.  I want  to  say  here  for  the  encouragement  of  any  who  may 
be  hesitating  as  I was,  that  it  is  not  a question  of  special  gift  in 
language  or  of  a remarkable  memory,  so  much  as  of  a fairly  good 
ear  and  a willingness  to  work  and  live  among  the  people. 

As  soon  as  I could  speak  enough  Korean  to  begin,  five  countie: 
were  assigned  to  my  care  north  of  Pyeng  Yang  City,  partly  moun- 
tainous and  partly  level  rice  plains  along  the  Yellow  Sea.  At 
first  the  church  work  was  small  and  I had  leisure  to  preach  to  the 
people  along  the  way.  There  are  few  good  roads  in  Korea,  only 
crooked  paths  that  seek  the  lowest  passes  in  the  mountains  and 
wind  in  and  out  between  the  rice  fields.  Most  Koreans  walk. 
That  seemed  too  slow  for  me,  so  I got  a nice,  red  bicycle  from  Chi- 
cago, but  I soon  gave  it  up.  I met  too  many  men  leading  enor- 
mous oxen,  loaded  down  with  brushwood  till  they  looked  like 
moving  wood  piles  with  horns  in  front  and  tails  behind.  You  can 
imagine  what  a great  country  ox  like  that  would  do  if  he  met  a 
foreigner  in  a narrow  path  on  a bicycle.  Conditions  have  changed 
greatly  in  Korea  the  last  few  years.  We  now  have  a railroad 
running  the  length  of  the  land  so  that  a bicycle  is  no  longer  a 
formidable  matter.  I am  even  planning  to  take  out  a motorcycle 
to  Korea  to  use  on  long  journeys.  Nevertheless,  I mean  to  walk 
as  much  as  possible  still,  because  it  is  the  best  way  to  preach  the 
Gospel.  Jesus  walked,  and  Korea  today  is  a good  deal  as  Pales- 
tine was  in  the  days  of  Christ. 

I enjoy  walking  with  my  Korean  friends,  filling  my  lungs  with 
the  fresh  mountain  air,  jumping  streams  without  bridges,  throwing 
rocks  at  impudent  magpies.  If  it  is  a long  pull  up  the  mountain, 
how  delicious  to  sit  awhile  on  the  summit  and  rest,  and  look  back 
over  the  trail  far  below,  to  see  the  villages  nestling  like  flocks  of 
quail  at  the  base  of  the  mountains,  to  see  the  tiny  streamlets  wind- 
ing like  silver  ribbons  among  the  rice  fields.  To  the  north  and 
south  and  east,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  see,  mountains  behind  moun- 
tains, forest, peaks  of  mountains,  till  the  gray  of  the  mountains  is 
lost  in  the  blue  of  the  sky.  To  the  west,  a few  scattered  mountains 
with  broad  valleys  between,  and  in  the  distance  the  long  line  of 


21 


the  Yellow  Sea,  with  the  smoke  of  a steamer  or  the  white  sails  of 
junks  going  across  to  China.  We  have  time  to  talk  over  the  work 
together,  to  plan  the  evening  meeting,  to  discuss  endless  problems. 

There  is  a system  of  market  in  Korea,  five  towns  in  a circle. 
The  market  town  may  not  have  more  than  twenty  houses;  but 
every  fifth  day  it  blossoms  into  a full-grown  city,  a great  beehive 
of  peddlers  with  their  wares  spread  out  on  mats  along  the  road, 
and  farmers  from  miles  in  every  direction.  There  is  no  set  price. 
It  is  a regular  Jews’  market.  Everybody  shouts  at  the  top  of  his 
lungs  to  be  heard  above  the  din.  What  seems  to  be  a fight  is 
probably  only  a prelude  to  a bargain,  a friendly  contest  of  wind 
and  wits  between  two  old  bluffers.  It  is  a fine  place  to  meet  men 
and  a fine  place  to  preach  the  Gospel. 

Frequently  we  will  overtake  a crowd  of  farmers  going  to 
market,  a woman  with  a bundle  of  cloth  on  her  head,  a boy  leading 
a donkey  laden  with  rice,  perhaps  a man  with  firewood  piled  high 
on  his  back  on  a wooden  frame  called  a “jickey,”  or  he  may  have 
eggs  in  strings  heaped  high  above  his  back  like  cordwood.  They 
put  ten  eggs  in  a string,  placed  end  to  end,  and  bound  with  rice 
straw  till  you  can  grasp  one  end  and  hold  the  string  out  like  a 
poker.  We  may  meet  a man  with  a pig  on  his  back,  with  the  four 
feet  tied  together  and  his  nose  bound  so  he  won’t  interrupt  the 
conversation,  going  along  just  as  innocently  as  can  be. 

They  smile  at  me  and  I at  them.  No  one  has  any  business 
on  the  foreign  field  without  a sense  of  humor.  Presently,  some- 
one will  hear  me  speak.  “What,  can  the  foreigner  speak  our  lan- 
guage?” he  exclaims.  “Oh,  yes,”  one  of  my  friends  will  answer, 
“he  speaks  very  well.”  The  Koreans  are  exceedingly  polite  and 
great  flatterers,  at  least  in  your  presence.  By  and  by,  I introduce 
myself  to  the  nearest  man.  No  third  party  is  necessary,  etiquette 
prescribing  certain  set  phrases  to  use  in  introduction.  I generally 
begin  by  asking  the  man  where  he  is  going,  then  where  he  lives. 
He  probably  answers,  “Over  behind  that  mountain,”  and  asks  me 
where  I live,  and  I tell  him,  “Outside  the  West  Gate  at  Pyeng 
Yang.”  Then  I ask  him  about  the  price  of  eggs  and  chickens, 
and  we  discuss  the  crops  and  the  weather.  Finally,  I ask  the 
question  that  I have  come  from  America  to  ask,  “Have  you  heard 
the  story  of  Jesus?”  Very  likely  he  answers,  “I  know  a little,  but 
not  clearly.”  Then  I begin  away  back  with  how  God  made  the 
world  for  man’s  benefit  and  filled  it  with  fruit  and  flowers  and  all 
that  he  needed  for  his  good,  how  men  everywhere  turned  their 
backs  upon  the  good  God  and  bowed  themselves  down  to  tablets 
of  wood  and  idols  of  stone,  and  got  to  themselves  thereby  terrible 


22 


hurt  and  damage;  how  sickness  and  sorrow,  suffering  and  death 
resulted.  I tell  hqw  God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  sent  His  Son 
from  Heaven  and  Jesus  was  born,  not  in  the  United  States  of 
America,  but  in  Bethlehem  of  Judea,  down  southwest  of  China. 
It  makes  a world  of  difference  to  an  Oriental  to  know  that  Jesus 
was  born  in  Asia.  I tell  of  His  life  and  His  love,  and  at  last  of  His 
death  on  the  cross.  I know  I never  understood  half  the  meaning  of 
the  crucifixion  till  I stood  by  the  wayside  in  Korea,  forgetting  to 
go  on,  and  showed  a Korean  who  had  never  heard  the  story  before, 
how  they  pierced  His  feet  and  drove  nails  in  His  hands,  and  heard 
the  man  say,  “Aigo,  kurus-sim-nika?”  (“Oh  my,  is  that  true?”)  and 
had  him  promise  to  believe  and  perhaps  found  him  in  church  the 
next  Sunday. 

In  those  earlier  days,  there  were  few  good  places  to  sleep  at 
night,  so  we  frequently  stayed  at  public  inns.  The  inn  is  usually 
an  ordinary  Korean  house,  consisting  of  a living-room  sixteen  to 
twenty  feet  long  and  eight  feet  wide,  and  a kitchen  at  one  end  with 
a dirt  floor  dug  out  a foot  below  the  level  of  the  ground  in  order 
that  the  flames  and  smoke  from  the  fireplace,  over  which  the  inn- 
keeper’s wife  cooks  the  rice  for  her  guests  in  a huge  iron  kettle, 
can  pass  underneath  the  stone-slabbed  floor  of  the  living-room 
by  a system  of  flues  cut  in  the  ground,  and  out  of  a high  chimney 
at  the  farther  end.  Mud  mixed  with  finely  chopped  rice  straw 
is  plastered  over  the  stone  floor.  At  first  the  heat  cracks  the  mud, 
but  after  being  washed  a few  times  with  a wet  broom  the  whole 
floor  bakes  hard  and  smooth  like  the  floor  of  an  oven.  The  room 
is  generally  quite  bare  of  furniture  except  a mat  on  the  floor,  a 
box  on  one  side  where  the  bedquilts  are  kept  by  day,  and  two 
earthen  vessels  at  the  upper  end  of  the  room  half  full  of  liquor. 

Usually  there  are  anywhere  from  three  to  ten  guests  ahead  of 
us,  already  stretched  out  on  the  warm  floor,  or  sitting  cross-legged, 
puffing  away  at  their  long  tobacco  pipes,  till  the  room  is  choked 
with  smoke.  In  winter,  no  matter  how  many  people  occupy  the 
room,  all  the  doors  and  windows  are  kept  tight  shut  to  conserve 
the  heat  in  the  stone  floor.  Scientists  tell  us  wonderful  stories 
about  how  many  cubic  yards  of  fresh  air  a man  must  have  to  exist. 
It  is  evidently  not  so,  at  least  in  Korea. 

Whenever  possible,  I bribe  the  innkeeper  for  a small^inner 
room.  Sometimes  I have  recklessly  paid  as  high  as  ten  cents  to 
get  him  to  send  his  wife  and  children  to  the  neighbors  and  give  me 
his  private  quarters;  but  frequently  bribery  fails,  or  there  is  no 
inner  room,  and  I have  to  share  the  front  room  with  the  family 
and  the  public.  Every  good  itinerator  is  prepared  for  such  an 


2.'? 


emergency.  We  usually  take  a pack  pouy  with  us,  loading  him 
down  with  two  wooden  boxes  about  the  size  of  cracker  boxes,  and 
tied  firmly  one  on  either  side  of  the  wooden  pack  saddle.  In  one 
of  the  boxes  is  placed  canned  goods  and  cooking  utensils  for  the 
journey,  and  in  the  other  books  and  clothing.  On  top  of  the  boxes 
is  placed  a large  bag,  called  a “tarrion,”  packed  with  bed  clothing, 
and  on  top  of  the  “tarrion,”  the  most  wonderful  thing  a missionary 
possesses,  his  folding  army  cot.  I generally  carry  a rubber  blanket 
to  protect  the  load  from  rain,  and  the  pack  is  complete. 

When  I have  to  sleep  in  a public  inn,  I first  unfold  the  cot  to 
the  unbounded  astonishment  of  the  Koreans,  and  place  it  cross- 
wise with  the  room,  just  as  close  as  possible  to  the  w hiskey  barrels, 
not  because  I particularly  admire  the  whiskey  barrels,  but  because 
the  Koreans  prefer  the  lower,  hotter  part  of  the  room  and  I decided- 
ly do  not.  Then  my  rubber  blanket  is  hung  up  for  a partition 
across  the  room  and  I am  ready  to  sleep.  Not  quite,  either.  When 
the  lights  are  out,  I rise  and  stealthily  cut  a slit  down  the  paper 
window  about  a foot  long  and  two  inches  wide.  This  is  what 
habit  does  for  a man.  I could  not  possibly  sleep  in  that  air-tight 
room  with  all  those  Koreans.  The  next  morning  a few  pennies 
wrill  more  than  compensate  the  owner. 

Most  Korean  inns  are  also  livery  stables,  with  a long  shed  to 
the  rear  wrhere  the  horses  and  donkeys  are  fed  bean  soup  in  a long 
log  trough  with  hollowed  out  sections.  Long  after  I have  gone 
to  bed  I can  hear  them  fussing  with  their  horses.  Each  animal 
is  put  to  bed  by  having  a rope  passed  under  his  belly  and  cinched 
up  to  a strong  beam  overhead.  A unique  device  to  save  currying. 
There  they  swing  on  tiptoe  in  a long  row,  half  standing,  half  hang- 
ing, all  the  night  through;  restlessly  jingling  the  bells  under  their 
necks,  and  at  intervals  breaking  loose  and  arousing  the  neighbor- 
hood writh  their  kicking  and  squealing.  Needless  to  say,  an  inn 
is  a poor  place  for  slumber. 


CHAPTER  V 
Caring  for  the  Churches 

Nowadays  we  rarely  sleep  in  inns.  The  church  work  has 
grown  until  there  are  now  more  than  forty  church  buildings  in  my 
five  counties.  It  takes  two  months  to  go  around  the  circuit  once. 
Many  of  the  churches  are  large,  with  several  hundred  people  pres- 
ent every  Sabbath.  All  told,  there  are  fully  4500  Christians  in 
the  churches  under  my  care.  The  last  time  I went  to  Yung  You, 
one  of  my  country  churches,  seven  hundred  people  met  me  for 
service  Sabbath  afternoon.  The  church  was  filled  with  women, 
the  men  sitting  outside  on  mats  under  a canopy.  I stood  in  a 
window,  one  leg  inside  and  one  leg  outside,  and  preached  the 
sermon.  This  growth  is  by  no  means  peculiar  to  my  own  territory. 
Many  of  the  missionaries  have  a much  larger  work  under  their 
care.  In  all  Korea  today  there  are  not  less  than  250,000  Chris- 
tians worshipping  God  in  more  than  2000  places,  where  they  have 
churches  erected  and  supported  almost  entirely  by  themselves. 

Several  years  ago  an  old  widow  named  Kim-si,  or  daughter 
of  Kim,  heard  how  a certain  woman  once  built  a chamber  for 
Elisha,  putting  in  a bed  and  a seat  and  a candlestick.  Kim-si 
thought  that  would  be  a good  thing  to  do  for  me,  so  when  she  built 
a new  house  she  added  a room  for  me,  papering  it  with  clean  white 
paper  decorated  by  a local  artist,  with  pictures  of  birds  and  flowers. 
The  idea  spread  to  other  churches  until  now  wherever  I go,  I 
generally  find  a room  near  the  church  freshly  papered  and  pre- 
pared for  me. 

I am  almost  ashamed  to  tell  how  the  Koreans  love  and  honor 
their  missionary  pastor.  Each  of  us  has  half  a dozen  or  more 
Korean  assistant  pastors,  or  helpers,  as  they  are  technically  called, 
who  care  for  the  churches  during  the  missionaries’  absence.  Most 
of  these  men  are  students  for  the  ministry  and  will  some  day  be 
ordained  and  given  full  charge  of  churches  as  pastors.  As  yet, 
however,  there  are  only  a few  ordained  Korean  pastors  and  the 
great  bulk  of  ecclesiastical  authority  is  still  in  our  hands. 

Let  me  relate  the  actual  happenings  on  my  last  country  trip 
before  leaving  Korea  on  furlough.  Dr.  Baird,  principal  of  our 
Pyeng  Yang  College  and  Academy,  was  absent  last  year  on  fur- 
lough, and  Mr.  Bernheisel  and  I did  the  best  we  could  to  assist 
Mr.  McCune  and  keep  the  school  running.  It  is  no  sinecure,  I 


25 


can  tell  you,  to  step  from  evangelistic  work  into  a professor’s  chair 
in  college  and  teach  four  or  five  hours  daily  such  subjects  as  politi- 
cal economy,  geometry  and  general  history  in  the  Korean  language. 

My  country  work  necessarily  had  to  be  neglected.  Some  of 
the  churches  were  visited  only  once  last  year.  My  last  trip  was 
made  to  Nam  San  Moru,  a church  of  over  two  hundred  Christians 
in  a little  valley  twelve  miles  north  of  Pyeng  Yang.  I had  been 
teaching  in  the  college  all  the  week  and  left  for  Nam  San  Moru 
Friday  afternoon  after  school  on  a little  donkey,  so  small  that  my 
legs  almost  dragged  on  the  ground,  but  surprisingly  strong  and 
pugnacious.  My  loads  had  gone  out  on  men’s  backs  some  hours 
before.  Two  men  carried  my  boxes  twelve  miles  for  twenty-five 
cents  apiece. 

The  road  to  Nam  San  Moru  goes  out  through  a gate  north  of 
our  house  in  the  old  Ke-ja  wall,  three  thousand  years  old.  After 
a hard  struggle  with  the  donkey  I finally  got  him  saddled  and  we 
shot  out  through  the  gate  and  across  the  plain  toward  Nam  San 
Moru,  the  donkey  braying  good-bye  like  a fog  horn. 

About  two  miles  from  Nam  San  Moru,  I found  a company  of 
Christians  waiting  for  me  at  a little  village,  with  thirty  school 
boys  drawn  up  in  a straight  line  by  the  roadside.  Nearly  all  the 
stronger  churches  have  boys’  schools  and  some  have  girls’  schools. 
There  are  twenty-six  church  schools  in  the  five  counties  under  my 
care,  all  entirely  supported  by  the  Korean  Christians. 

After  the  greetings  by  the  roadside  were  over,  we  started 
toward  the  village  of  Nam  San  Moru  together,  a small  boy  taking 
proud  possession  of  my  donkey,  now  quite  tamed  by  the  rapid  ride, 
while  I walked  with  the  men.  Just  in  front  of  the  village  we  found 
the  old  women  and  the  girls  from  the  girls’  school,  the  latter  dressed 
in  rainbow  tinted  dresses  and  drawn  up  in  line,  like  the  boys,  to 
meet  me. 

The  Nam  San  Moru  church  is  a fine  tile-roofed  building, 
prettily  situated  in  a cluster  of  oak  trees  back  of  the  village.  Here 
we  assembled  and  each  man  came  forward  for  his  individual  greet- 
ing. How  they  do  love  to  be  remembered!  “Nal  amneka?”  (“Do 
you  know  me?”)  is  asked  again  and  again;  and  how  can  I know  them? 
Over  four  thousand  Christians  under  my  care  and  I able  to  visit 
them  only  twice  a year!  Why,  I can  scarcely  keep  track  of  the 
church  officers,  to  say  nothing  of  the  hosts  of  new  believers.  One 
thing  helps  greatly.  The  Koreans  are  in  tribes  and  most  of  them 
seem  to  belong  to  the  Kim  tribe.  If  I fail  to  recall  a man’s  name, 
it  is  good  policy  to  say,  “You  are  Mr.  Kim,  aren’t  you?”  and  if  I 
hit  it  he  will  be  delighted  with  my  excellent  memory. 


26 


Calling  the  officers,  we  went  apart  to  a small  room  and  pre- 
pared for  business.  First,  the  roll  book  was  produced.  Each 
church  keeps  an  accurate  record  of  the  church  attendance  of  all  the 
Christians.  A cross  means  present  and  a cipher  means  absent. 
Running  my  eye  hastily  down  the  list  I found  several  names  with 
only  ciphers.  Some  proved  to  be  sick  or  absent  from  the  village, 
but  several  had  fallen  into  sin  and  quit  coming.  “Be  sure  and 
bring  these  men  tonight,”  I told  the  officers.  “Don’t  use  force, 
but  compel  them  to  come  if  you  can.” 

We  found  twenty  names  on  the  roll  of  catechumens  who  had 
been  attending  faithfully  for  more  than  a year  and  not  yet  bap- 
tized. The  ordinary  course  is  to  receive  a man  publicly  as  a cate- 
chumen after  he  has  been  a Christian  for  three  months  and  then 
one  year  later  examine  him  for  baptism.  We  sent  for  these  twenty 
and  examined  them  three  at  a time.  Not  a perfunctory,  matter- 
of-course  ceremony  but  a real  examination,  with  a weighty  decision 
at  the  close,  whether  baptism  should  be  administered  or  not. 
“How  long  have  you  been  a Christian?  Who  is  Jesus?  Why  do 
you  believe  in  Him?  Have  you  kept  the  Sabbath  faithfully  since 
believing?  Can  you  read?  Do  you  have  family  prayers  in  your 
home  daily?  Have  you  brought  anyone  to  Christ?”  We  seek 
to  discover  through  it  all  whether  the  person  examined  is  sincere, 
looking  earnestly  for  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  in  the  new  life.  If  I 
find  a man  or  woman  under  fifty  who  has  not  learned  to  read  the 
Bible,  or  a man  whose  wife  is  not  a Christian,  I nearly  always 
postpone  the  baptism  till  more  convincing  proof  is  given  of  real 
zeal  and  love  for  the  Master.  That  night  we  voted  to  baptize 
seventeen  out  of  the  twenty. 

While  the  examination  was  going  on,  the  Korean  boy  who 
always  travels  with  me  had  been  busy  getting  supper  ready  in  an 
adjoining  room.  As  soon  as  opportunity  offered,  he  served  my 
meal  on  a little  round  table  about  a foot  high.  After  supper  we 
hurried  to  the  church  for  service  to  find  the  building  packed  so 
that  an  aisle  had  to  be  cleared  for  me  to  reach  the  platform.  It 
was  then  half-past  nine  o’clock.  Most  of  the  audience  had  been 
waiting  since  noon.  The  meeting  was  necessarily  a long  one. 
First  came  the  singing  and  several  prayers,  then  an  election  of 
deacons  and  a special  offering  for  Helper’s  salary,  which  should 
have  been  taken  before  I came.  After  the  reception  of  catechu- 
mens, I baptized  the  seventeen  whose  examination  had  been 
satisfactory  and  then  several  children.  Next  was  the  sermon,  not 
a short  one  either,  followed  by  public  reproof  and  suspension  of 
the  three  recreant  members,  and  last  of  all  the  Lord’s  Supper 


27 


when  a deep  and  solemn  hush  rested  on  the  upturned  faces  and 
Jesus  Himself  drew  near  with  His  rich  and  unfailing  blessing. 

It  was  past  midnight  before  the  benediction  came,  and  I was 
weary  enough  to  sink  to  sleep  where  I stood;  but  no,  the  hardest 
task  of  all  lay  before  me.  The  three  men  I had  summoned  were 
there.  I had  to  take  them  apart  and  try  to  win  them  back  to 
repentance.  This  is  where  the  real  test  comes.  This  is  where 
the  Korean  Church  most  needs  us.  They  can  win  converts  and 
preach  the  Gospel  better  than  we  can.  They  can  build  their 
churches  and  support  them;  but  they  wait  most  of  all  for  us  to 
come  and  bring  back  these  who  have  fallen  away,  who  refuse  their 
pleading.  Only  on  one’s  knees,  by  prayer  and  entreaty  and  tears, 
can  it  be  done.  Gratefully,  I record  the  repentance  of  all  three 
that  evening. 


CHAPTER  VI 
An  Ju 

The  best  way  to  understand  the  whole  church  is  to  know  one 
congregation  intimately.  Let  me  introduce  you  to  the  church 
in  An  Ju. 

In  the  spring  of  my  first  year  in  Korea,  Dr.  Moffett  took  me 
with  him  on  a trip  through  his  district  north  of  Pyeng  Yang  City. 
After  ten  days  of  journeying  from  place  to  place,  we  came  one 
evening  to  the  walled  city  of  An  Ju,  the  principal  city  between 
Pyeng  Yang  and  Wei  Ju  on  the  Chinese  border.  The  city  proper 
is  situated  on  the  south  slope  of  a range  of  low  mountains  guarding 
the  Chung  Chun  river.  The  old  Seoul-Pekin  road,  entering  by  the 
southeast  gate,  forms  the  main  street  of  the  city.  Half  way  up 
the  mountain  is  a second,  inner  wall,  and  still  farther  up  a third 
wall,  the  citadel,  the  last  place  of  refuge  in  time  of  battle.  The 
mountains  are  covered  with  beautiful  old,  gnarled  and  twisted 
pine  trees.  The  city  abounds  in  springs,  several  flowing  from 
solid  rock  in  steady  crystal  streams,  ten  inches  deep  and  from 
four  to  six  feet  wide,  all  joining  to  form  one  broad  brook  and 
spreading  into  a lake  inside  the  outer  wall.  The  walls  are  formed 
of  great  stones,  mostly  cut,  and  built  up  twenty  feet  of  solid 
masonry.  Inside,  the  wall  is  banked  wdth  dirt,  thickly  carpeted 
with  grass  and  flowers  and  fringed  with  weeping  willow  trees. 
Scores  of  little  shrines  are  clustered  along  the  wall  among  the 
willows,  while  back  on  the  mountain  side  are  several  large  temples, 
and  an  altar  on  the  highest  point  where  sacrifice  is  made  to  heaven. 

The  people  of  An  Ju  are  very  proud  of  their  blood  and  ancient 
families.  They  are  not  so  poor  as  many  communities  and  conse- 
quently more  conservative.  Though  Christian  preachers,  both 
foreign  and  native,  had  visited  the  city  frequently,  no  visible 
impression  had  been  made.  We  found  only  one  man  named  Kim 
and  his  wife  in  the  city  and  a saloon  keeper’s  wife  outside  the  city 
who  made  any  profession.  Several  Christians  came  in  from  sur- 
rounding villages  and  we  met  that  night  in  the  rear  room  of  the 
saloon,  Kim’s  house  not  being  large  enough  to  accommodate  even 
the  small  company  that  assembled.  This  man  Kim,  by  the  way, 
is  a fine  gray-bearded  old  gentleman  with  a hearty  laugh  and  a 


29 


violent  temper.  He  would  preach  to  his  neighbors  about  Jesus 
and  if  someone  refused  to  believe  or  became  abusive,  old  Kim 
would  lose  his  temper  and  proceed  to  pound  religion  into  him. 
I had  to  postpone  his  baptism  two  years  till  he  learned  to  control 
his  unruly  temper. 

The  next  morning,  Dr.  Moffett  took  me  for  a walk  on  the 
wall.  Standing  on  a high  point  overlooking  the  city,  he  told  me 
for  the  first  time  why  he  had  brought  me  to  An  Ju.  “This  city,” 
said  he,  “is  one  of  the  strategic  places  in  north  Korea,  and  I hope 
it  may  be  assigned  to  you.”  He  showed  me  how  the  trade  from 
the  far-off  Kang  Kei  region  passed  through  An  Ju,  how  a church 
planted  here  would  do  much  to  evangelize  the  entire  section.  I 
gladly  consented  to  undertake  the  work  if  the  Mission  saw  fit  to 
appoint  me  to  it.  That  fall  at  Annual  Meeting,  the  An  Ju  work 
was  assigned  to  my  care.  I put  all  my  young  enthusiasm  into  it, 
not  forgetting  Dr.  Moffett’s  counsel.  Where  I visited  other  cities 
once,  I visited  An  Ju  twice,  and  God  prospered  the  work  from  the 
beginning.  In  a short  time  enough  Christians  had  been  gathered 
to  buy  a small  straw-thatched  house  inside  the  city.  Here  we 
hung  out  our  sign,  “Yasu  Kyo”  (“The  Church  of  Jesus”)  and 
hoisted  the  national  flag  on  Sunday  to  guide  strangers  to  service. 

In  God’s  good  providence,  two  splendid  young  men,  just  my 
own  age,  Christians  from  near-by  villages,  moved  to  An  Ju  and 
engaged  in  business.  They  became  the  natural  leaders.  God 
prospered  their  business  and  they  gave  a tenth  of  their  incomes 
to  the  church  and  much  more  than  a tenth  of  their  time,  without 
other  pay  than  the  joy  of  service,  to  preaching  the  Gospel  and 
church  work. 

So  the  An  Ju  church  prospered;  but  one  thorn  continually 
aggravated  us — the  Methodists  began  work  in  An  Ju  too.  Their 
leader  was  very  zealous.  The  father  and  brother  of  one  of  our 
leaders  became  Methodists,  and  our  people  were  greatly  offended. 
Thus  was  the  Body  of  Christ  in  this  heathen  city  needlessly  divided. 
Mr.  Morris,  the  Methodist  missionary  in  charge,  and  I were  inti- 
mate friends  and  tried  hard  to  prevent  misunderstandings,  to 
teach  the  two  congregations  to  regard  each  other  as  brethren,  as 
helpers  together  in  a common  cause  and  not  rivals.  Our  efforts 
were  far  from  successful.  The  thing  was  wrong  and  inevitably 
bred  contention  and  suspicion. 

Matters  stood  thus  in  1904,  the  year  the  Japanese-Russian 
War  swept  down  upon  us.  An  Ju,  like  Pyeng  Yang,  became  a 
Japanese  center  even  after  the  Russians  had  been  driven  far  be- 
yond the  Yalu.  During  the  first  uncertain  days  of  the  war,  we 


30 


American  missionaries  were  confined  to  Pyeng  Yang  by  govern- 
ment order,  and  could  do  little  but  watch  the  Japanese  troops 
march  in  and  out  of  our  city.  I doubt  if  the  world  has  ever  seen  a 
finer  army  than  that  first  Japanese  army  of  invasion.  Day  by 
day  they  marched  in  from  the  south,  storing  their  baggage  on  our 
college  campus,  and  out  the  next  morning  by  the  Pekin  road,  right 
past  our  houses,  silently,  without  martial  music  except  the  occa- 
sional call  of  a bugle.  We  heard  from  the  Koreans  that  every 
Japanese  soldier  carried  on  his  person  some  means  of  death  in 
case  of  capture.  They  expected  a desperate  conflict  and  went 
forward  by  no  means  sure  of  victory,  but  determined  to  win  or 
die.  A great  deal  has  been  published  concerning  the  hardships 
inflicted  upon  innocent  Koreans  by  disorderly  Japanese  who  fol- 
lowed the  army.  I can  speak  only  in  praise  of  the  regular  army. 
Although  the  troops  had  to  be  quartered  throughout  the  city  in 
Korean  houses,  not  a single  case  of  outrage  was  reported  to  us. 
Our  rights  as  American  citizens  were  scrupulously  regarded. 
Scarcely  a soldier  entered  our  grounds. 

Naturally,  I was  anxious  about  my  country  churches.  As 
soon  as  it  appeared  at  all  feasible,  I went  to  the  Japanese  Resident 
in  Pyeng  Yang  and  asked  permission  to  visit  my  country  district. 
He  consented  and  gave  me  a passport  written  in  .Japanese  and 
English  which  proved  of  great  service  to  me  afterward.  The 
English  translation  is  odd,  but  interesting: 

“Rev.  Wm.  N.  Blair.  The  above  named  person, 
being  American  Reverend,  is  going  in  An  Ju,  Sook 
Chun  and  Kai  Chun  for  preaching,  and  will  be  al- 
lowed to  pass  freely  without  hindrance,  and  such 
assistance  will  be  given  as  he  may  be  in  need  of. 

Depot  of  Supplies  in  Pyeng  Yang. 

To  Japanese  Depot  of  Supplies  and  Troops  at  the 
places  in  the  bearer’s  trips.” 

With  this  passport  as  security,  I went  freely  among  my 
churches,  meeting  troops  everywhere,  but  receiving  only  courtesy 
and  kindness.  Later  when  the  government  railroad  was  finished,  I 
found  to  my  delight  that  the  guards  readily  honored  my  passport 
and  let  me  ride  on  the  construction  trains  without  charge. 

It  was  on  this  first  country  trip,  during  the  war,  that  I came 
one  evening  in  company  with  several  Koreans  to  the  main  road 
in  front  of  An  Ju,  and  was  surprised  to  find  the  telegraph  wires 
cut  south  of  the  city.  Reaching  the  city,  we  found  the  gates 
closed  and  Japanese  soldiers  on  guard  above.  We  learned  from 


31 


Koreans  living  outside  the  wall  that  a company  of  four  hundred 
Cossacks  had  suddenly  come  down  from  the  north  the  day  before, 
and  after  cutting  the  wires  had  taken  position  on  a high  hill  to  the 
east  and  opened  fire  on  the  city.  There  was  only  a small  Japanese 
garrison  in  An  Ju  at  the  time.  Most  of  the  Korean  population 
fled  in  terror  at  the  first  shot. 

Fortunately  for  the  Japanese,  they  had  discovered  the  Rus- 
sians in  time  to  telegraph  the  news  before  the  wires  were  cut,  to 
Sook  Chun,  twenty  miles  south,  where  another  small  garrison  of 
one  hundred  men  was  stationed.  The  Sook  Chun  company 
started  at  once  on  a run  and  ran  the  entire  twenty  miles  to  An  Ju 
without  stopping. 

Meanwhile  a hot  battle  raged  in  An  Ju.  All  the  extra  guns 
the  Japanese  could  spare  were  put  in  the  hands  of  Koreans  with 
the  instruction,  “Never  mind  if  you  can’t  hit  anything.  Shoot 
and  make  a noise.”  The  Russians  never  knew  the  weakness  of 
the  place  or  they  would  have  taken  it  at  once  by  storming  the 
walls. 

When  the  Sook  Chun  company  arrived,  the  An  Ju  command- 
ant threw  open  the  gates  and  led  out  his  men.  Together  the  less 
than  two  hundred  Japanese  soldiers  charged  straight  up  the  hill 
and  drove  the  Russians  pell  mell  down  the  other  side.  Probably 
more  Japanese  were  killed  than  Russians;  but  the  point  is  that 
the  Russians  fled,  leaving  enough  dead  to  make  a large  mound  not 
far  from  the  Kai  Chun  road  east  of  the  city. 

This  explained  the  shut  gates.  The  Russians  were  still  in 
the  neighborhood  and  the  Japanese  fearful  of  a second  visit.  Our 
problem  was  how  to  get  into  the  city.  Word  had  been  forwarded 
to  the  An  Ju  Christians  to  expect  me  that  evening  and  it  was  time 
for  service.  Presently  a Korean  came,  saying  he  could  guide  us 
over  a breach  in  the  wall.  Very  quietly  we  made  our  way  along 
the  wall,  crawled  on  hands  and  knees  up  broken  defiles  half  way 
between  the  gates,  and  were  soon  inside  the  city,  being  welcomed 
by  our  overjoyed  brethren  at  the  church.  Not  a single  Christian 
had  fled.  Christianity  is  a religion  of  peace;  but  it  is  amazing 
how  it  stiffens  men’s  backbones  and  gives  new  courage  to  defend 
their  rights  and  homes. 

We  were  busy  that  evening  and  all  the  next  day  at  the  church. 
About  four  o’clock,  several  of  us  went  for  a walk.  I expected  to 
be  arrested  and  was  not  disappointed.  The  first  Japanese  coolie 
who  saw  me  started  off  on  a run,  and  in  a few  minutes  a squad  of 
soldiers  came  marching  our  way  on  a double  quick  and  put  us  all 
under  arrest.  I knew  enough  Japanese  to  say  “headquarters,” 


32 


and  to  “headquarters”  we  went,  with  a soldier  on  either  side  and 
a crowd  of  excited  coolies  behind. 

The  commandant  spoke  a little  English,  though  my  passport 
would  have  been  sufficient  identification.  With  a flourish,  he 
dismissed  the  crowd,  and  escorting  me  into  his  private  apartment, 
entertained  me  with  tea  and  cake  and  the  story  of  the  battle  the 
day  before.  He  showed  me  a heap  of  Russian  fur  coats  and 
high  boots,  with  guns  and  swords  discarded  in  the  flight,  and  two 
Russian  prisoners,  one  a great  bearded  fellow  and  the  other  a mere 
lad.  My  sympathies  at  the  time  were  entirely  with  the  Japanese; 
but  I shall  never  forget  the  feeling  that  surged  over  me  as  I tried 
to  talk  to  these  two  Russians.  They  were  white  men,  prisoners 
in  the  hands  of  an  alien  race,  and  all  the  blood  of  our  common 
heritage  surged  through  my  body  in  an  overwhelming  wave  of 
sympathy  and  desire  to  set  them  free. 

This  battle  gave  us  our  new  church  in  An  Ju.  The  Christians 
saw  their  opportunity.  “Everybody  has  run  away,”  they  said, 
“and  the  soldiers  are  stabling  their  horses  in  the  houses.  The 
bottom  has  dropped  out  of  the  price  of  property.  Now  is  the  time 
to  buy  a new  church.”  It  may  have  been  a bit  canny;  but  what 
a splendid  exhibition  of  faith.  One  of  the  best  houses  in  the  city 
was  offered  for  sale.  By  strenuous  efforts  half  the  price  was 
secured;  but  only  half.  Possibly,  I might  have  advanced  the 
balance  needed;  but  it  is  against  our  Mission  rules  and  policy  to 
put  American  money  in  Korean  churches.  The  temptation  to  do 
so  is  often  great.  They  are  so  poor,  how  can  they  give  all  the 
funds  necessary?  Yet  experience  has  proven  that  it  is  better  to 
let  them  bear  the  burden  alone  and  grow  strong  by  bearing  it. 
They  always  manage  somehow.  When  every  resource  had  seem- 
ingly been  exhausted,  Choi-si,  a widow  with  some  property  but 
no  ready  money,  came  forward.  “We  must  have  this  house,” 
said  she,  “and  if  you  all  agree,  I will  give  my  home  in  the  country 
as  payment  and  live  in  one  room  of  the  church  as  the  keeper.” 
Choi-si’s  offer  was  accepted  as  a gift  from  God.  In  twenty-four 
hours  the  building  was  ours  and  a force  of  men  were  at  work  trans- 
forming it  into  a church. 


CHAPTER  VII 

An  Ju  ( continued ) 

In  the  fall  of  1904,  when  danger  of  Russian  invasion  had 
passed,  Miss  Helen  Kirkwood,  Mrs.  Blair  and  I went  to  An  Ju  to 
hold  a Bible  study  class  for  women.  Lois,  our  oldest  child,  not 
quite  two  years  old,  and  Katharine,  only  four  months  old,  went 
with  us,  Lois  in  a Korean  chair  with  the  Korean  nurse,  and  Kath- 
arine with  her  mother.  Strong  coolies  carried  the  chairs  frotn 
Pyeng  Yang  to  An  Ju  in  two  days.  We  secured  a Korean  house 
near  the  church  and  made  it  as  clean  as  possible  with  fresh  mats 
and  white  wall  paper.  Everything  was  progressing  nicely  when 
on  the  third  day  Lois  was  taken  violently  ill  with  dysentery.  We 
used  all  the  simple  remedies  we  knew,  with  no  effect.  The  child 
was  failing  so  rapidly  that  we  dared  not  wait  for  a doctor  from 
Pyeng  Yang.  Taking  a Korean  interpreter  with  me,  I went  up 
the  hill  to  the  Japanese  barracks  and  inquired  for  a physician. 
Dr.  Matsumoto,  a slight  man  with  delicate  features,  responded  to 
our  call,  and  upon  learning  the  trouble,  immediately  accompanied 
us  to  our  quarters.  He  spoke  neither  English  nor  Korean.  We 
had  to  communicate  with  him  by  writing  Chinese;  but  little  com- 
munication was  necessary.  The  child  herself  was  an  open  book  to 
him.  No  physician  ever  inspired  me  with  greater  confidence. 
Gratefully,  we  intrusted  our  darling  to  his  care.  It  was  good  to 
see  that  he  loved  little  children,  touching  the  yellow  curls  very 
tenderly  and  exclaiming  over  her  childish  beauty.  He  had  chil- 
dren of  his  own  in  “Dai  Nip-pon,”  and  took  up  the  battle  for  opr 
little  one’s  life  as  if  she  were  his  own.  For  five  days  the  malady 
ruthlessly  wasted  the  fair  form  till  it  became  a shadow.  Too 
anxious  to  sleep  and  too  miserable  to  talk,  the  mother  and  I 
watched  by  the  bed  side  continually.  As  the  case  grew  more 
serious.  Dr.  Matsumoto  came  several  times  a day,  and  at  last, 
when  the  little  life  hung  in  the  balance,  brought  several  army 
physicians,  summoned  from  somewhere,  for  consultation.  God 
had  mercy  on  us.  In  the  end,  the  medicine  conquered,  and  we 
were  able  to  carry  our  darling  to  Pyeng  Yang  and  nurse  her  slowly 
back  to  health.  It  was  six  months  before  she  was  able  to  walk 
again,  but  no  permanent  injury  resulted. 


34 


Before  leaving  An  Ju,  I called  upon  Dr.  Matsumoto  to  thank 
him  for  his  assistance,  and  pay  for  the  medicine  and  care.  “Oh, 
no,”  he  said,  “my  country  is  rich;  besides  I have  a little  girl  in 
Japan  like  yours,  and  who  knows  but  in  my  absence  she  may  be 
sick  and  need  such  care  from  another  as  I have  given  your  child.” 
“Surely,”  I said,  “you  will  let  me  pay  for  the  medicine.”  But  no 
amount  of  pressure  could  move  him  to  accept  anything.  “No,” 
he  said,  “but  if  you  have  a picture  of  the  little  maid,  I would  be 
glad  to  receive  it.”  You  may  be  sure  he  got  the  picture.  This 
man  was  not  a Christian,  but  surely  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of 
Him  who  gave  the  great  commandment,  “Whatsoever  ye  would 
that  men  should  do  unto  you,  even  so  do  ye  also  unto  them,”  and,  “I 
was  sick  and  ye  visited  me.”  “Verily  I say  unto  you,  inasmuch  as 
ye  did  it  unto  one  of  these  my  brethren,  even  these  least,  ye  have 
done  it  unto  me.” 

I must  not  forget  to  record  here  another  important  step  in  the 
growth  of  the  An  Ju  Church,  which  occurred  at  the  time  of  this 
visit:  the  signal  conversion  of  Chun-si,  foster  si  iter  of  Choi-si, 
who  gave  her  home  to  help  buy  the  new  church  building.  These 
two  women  had  been  widows  for  many  years,  living  together  as 
sisters,  highly  respected  in  the  community. 

When  Choi-si  became  a Christian  and  Chun-si  refused  to 
believe,  it  happened  according  to  the  words  of  the  Master  that  a 
sword  entered  in.  Chun-si  not  only  refused  to  believe  herself; 
but  opposed  Choi-si  having  anything  to  do  with  “the  people  of 
Jesus.”  For  thirty  years  the  two  had  lived  one  life.  Now  Choi-si 
entered  a new  world  of  belief  and  friends  where  Chun-si  was  left 
out.  Loneliness  and  grief  and  bitter  hatred  of  the  Christians 
filled  her  heart.  She  became  so  violent  a persecutor  that  possibly 
a desire  to  escape  may  have  influenced  Choi-si  in  her  gift  to  the 
church,  inasmuch  as  it  was  provided  that  she  should  occupy  one 
•of  the  rooms  as  keeper  of  the  building. 

If  she  sought  to  escape,  she  failed.  Chun-si  packed  her  goods 
and  moved  into  the  church  with  Choi-si.  Here  was  a nice  situation, 
an  enemy  in  the  camp,  a heathen  woman  and  a persecutor,  so 
bitter  that  the  sound  of  singing  and  of  prayer  drove  her  into  a 
perfect  frenzy.  The  An  Ju  Christians  seemed  helpless.  Nobody 
cared  to  carry  the  old  woman  into  the  street  to  scream  and  tear 
her  hair  and  throw  the  city  into  an  uproar.  Their  only  hope  lay 
in  the  strong  hand  of  the  missionary.  I sent  Chun-si  word  to 
quiet  down  or  leave  the  church  and  for  a time  she  behaved  a little 
better;  but  when  our  woman’s  Bible  class  began,  the  Devil  seem- 
ingly entered  into  her  to  break  up  the  meeting.  She  abused  all 


35 


who  came  and  cursed  and  swore  so  that  the  younger  women  were 
frightened  away. 

It  was  high  time  to  act,  regardless  of  consequences.  I called 
Chun-si  out  and  told  her  she  must  go.  I was  sorry;  but  she  had 
behaved  so  outrageously  that  she  would  have  to  leave,  and  leave 
immediately.  “Very  well,”  she  said,  “I’ll  go,”  and  in  a perfect 
storm  of  anger,  she  rushed  into  the  church,  grabbed  here  and  there 
for  her  belongings,  bound  them  into  a bundle,  and  tore  out  of  the 
church,  pouring  out  threats  and  imprecations  upon  all  of  us.  That 
night  we  had  peace.  The  next  morning  while  the  women  were 
having  prayers  the  door  suddenly  opened  and  Chun-si  rushed  in 
and  threw  herself  on  the  floor  in  an  attitude  of  prayer,  exclaiming, 
“Kedo-hapsata”  (‘‘Let’s  pray”).  Everybody  was  nonplussed. 
Was  the  old  woman  pretending,  or  had  contrition  overtaken  her 
at  last?  She  had  to  repeat  her  request  several  times  before  any- 
one offered  to  pray. 

Chun-si  rose  up  from  that  prayer  absolutely  a changed  woman. 
In  fact,  the  change  came  in  the  night,  when,  as  she  told  us,  alone 
and  in  a strange  place  Jesus  came  to  her  and  opened  her  eyes. 
She  sat  through  that  class  a repentant  woman  and  an  eager  learner. 
What  a miracle!  She  who  once  hated  the  very  name  of  Jesus 
came  over  night  to  love  Him  with  a great  love.  The  transforma- 
tion of  her  face  was  beautiful  to  see.  I had  known  her  before  a 
hard-visaged,  hateful,  blaspheming  woman.  Now  all  the  hard 
lines  were  gone,  driven  out  by  the  great  peace  and  love  that  came 
to  her  self-tortured  soul.  Would  that  I could  paint  the  two  faces 
as  they  live  in  my  memory!  No  better  apologetic  could  be  found 
for  foreign  missions. 

The  two  sisters  now  went  forth,  hand  in  hand,  to  preach  the 
Gospel  to  their  friends  in  An  Ju,  and  Chun-si  soon  became  the 
greater  power  of  the  two.  It  was  said  of  her,  as  of  Saul  of  Tarsus, 
“Is  not  this  she  who  made  havoc  of  them  that  called  on  this  name?” 
Scores  of  men  and  women  were  converted.  The  Christians  were 
no  longer  in  confusion;  but  meeting  together  “with  gladness  and 
singleness  of  heart.  Praising  God  and  having  favor  with  all  the 
people.  And  the  Lord  added  to  them  day  by  day  those  that  were 
saved.” 

In  due  course  of  time,  Chun-si  became  a catechumen,  and 
after  the  usual  year’s  instruction,  was  baptized,  my  hand  sprinkling 
the  baptismal  water  on  the  bowed  gray  head,  and  in  my  heart  a 
profound  sense  of  God’s  grace  and  presence. 

Another  year  went  by  and  once  more  Mrs.  Blair  and  I visited 
An  Ju  together.  The  church  was  crowded  for  communion  service 


36 


on  Sunday,  but  Chun-si  was  not  there.  She  lay  in  a room  not  far 
away,  listening  to  the  singing,  but  unable  to  enter.  After  the 
service,  Mrs.  Blair  and  I,  with  the  officers  and  one  or  two  old 
women,  went  to  Chun-si’s  side  and  held  a short  service  of  song 
and  prayer  and  I administered  the  communion.  “No,”  she  said, 
“I  am  not  afraid  to  die,  but  very  tired  and  long  to  be  with  Jesus.” 
We  never  saw  her  again.  Only  a few  days  later  God  called  her 
home  with  a song  of  praise  on  her  dying  lips,  gloriously  triumphant. 

One  other  circumstance  added  greatly  to  the  success  of  the 
An  Ju  Church.  A territorial  division  was  finally  arranged  with 
the  Methodists  whereby  they  took  all  the  territory  northwest  of 
An  Ju  and  turned  over  their  work  in  An  Ju  to  us.  We  have  now 
but  one  Church  of  Christ  in  An  Ju,  a Presbyterian  Church  under 
the  Korean  Presbytery;  but  in  reality  a union  church.  At  first 
the  Methodist  Christians  objected  to  the  union,  being  prejudiced 
against  us  just  as  our  people  had  been  against  them;  but  Mr. 
Morris,  the  Methodist  missionary  in  charge  at  An  Ju,  soon  showed 
them  that  it  was  necessary  for  the  good  of  the  whole  church.  Soon 
all  differences  dropped  out.  Both  congregations  were  surprised 
to  find  what  splendid  Christians  some  of  the  men  they  had  doubted 
before  really  were.  At  last  we  were  in  a position  to  know  and 
love  one  another  as  true  brethren.  And  God  set  His  seal  unmis- 
takably upon  the  union.  The  An  Ju  Church  is  today  the  strongest 
church  in  my  territory.  We  have  a boys’  school  with  two  teachers 
and  a girls’  school  and  a church  of  nearly  four  hundred. 

The  winter  before  we  left  Korea  on  furlough,  plans  were 
begun  for  a new  church  in  An  Ju,  to  be  built  on  the  hillside  over- 
looking the  city.  Timber  was  purchased  on  a mountainside  twen- 
ty miles  away,  cut  down  and  hauled  over  the  snow  to  An  Ju. 
When  spring  came,  business  halted  while  the  foundation  was  being 
laid  and  the  big  timbers  squared  for  raising.  Much  of  the  work 
had  to  be  done  by  paid  carpenters  and  masons;  but  all  that  un- 
skilled hands  could  do  was  gladly  done  by  Christians,  for  money  is 
scarce  in  Korea.  Saving  everywhere  possible,  the  church  would 
cost  fully  30,000  nyang,  $1,500  in  American  money;  but  represent- 
ing a sacrifice  to  them  of  $30,000.  Nor  was  it  easily  raised,  or  all 
at  one  time.  The  congregation  met  time  and  time  again  to  pledge 
the  money.  All  gave  what  money  they  could,  some  gave  their 
fields,  others  grain  or  merchandise,  women  gave  their  jewelry,  and 
it  was  done. 

Finally  the  frame  was  up,  looming  like  a cathedral  above  the 
city,  built  to  seat  six  hundred  and  high  enough  to  permit  enlarge- 
ment to  seat  twelve  hundred.  I went  to  An  Ju  on  a visit  of  in- 


37 


spection  and  crawled  all  over  the  building  with  the  building  com- 
mittee to  see  if  the  trusses  were  sufficiently  strong,  all  of  us  happy 
as  children.  One  thing  troubled  us.  The  contractor  who  had 
promised  to  furnish  the  tile  went  back  on  his  bargain.  The  rainy 
season  was  drawing  near  and  our  building  uncovered.  Letter 
after  letter  reached  me  after  I had  returned  to  Pyeng  Yang,  telling 
of  their  anxiety,  and  asking  me  to  ship  tile  from  Pyeng  Yang.  I 
found  this  quite  impossible.  One  day  a letter  came  saying,  never 
mind,  that  God  had  sent  them  the  tile.  Where  do  you  suppose 
the  tile  came  from?  I mentioned  the  spirit-shrines  clustered 
under  the  willow  trees  on  the  wall  surrounding  the  city.  The 
magistrate  of  An  Ju  sent  word  that  if  the  Christians  wanted  tile 
badly,  he  would  sell  them  all  these  shrines  as  they  were  no  longer 
used  by  the  people,  and  for  a price  he  sold  the  church  the  whole 

and  lifted  the 
them  on  their 
house  of  God; 
objecting. 


collection,  and  the  Christians  went  up  in  crowds 
tiles  from  the  roofs  of  the  devil-houses,  carrying 
backs  through  the  city,  and  set  them  high  on  the 
greatly  rejoicing,  and  all  the  city  looked  on,  no  one 


CHAPTER  VIII 
The  Church's  Testing 

Enough  has  been  given  in  the  foregoing  chapters  to  show  the 
character  of  the  Korean  Church.  There  is  no  overstating  the 
zeal  of  the  Korean  Christians,  their  enthusiasm  in  witnessing,  their 
generosity  in  giving,  their  delight  in  prayer  and  the  study  of  God’s 
Word.  It  is  a mistake,  however,  to  suppose  that  there  have  been 
no  difficulties  to  overcome,  no  problems,  nor  times  of  testing.  The 
Far  East  is  in  a ferment.  Two  great  wars  that  have  shaken  the 
nations  and  changed  the  course  of  history  have  focused  in  Korea 
during  the  short  period  of  the  Church’s  history.  Nothing  but  the 
guiding  presence  of  the  Lord’s  Spirit  has  brought  the  Church  in 
safety  to  this  hour.  Nothing  but  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  poured 
forth  from  heaven  in  Pentecostal  power  could  have  saved  the 
Church  at  the  time  of  its  great  testing. 

The  critical  time  to  which  we  allude  came  with  the  establish- 
ing of  the  independent  Korean  Church  in  1907.  It  has  never  been 
the  thought  or  desire  of  the  missionaries  of  our  church  or  of  our 
Board  of  Foreign  Missions  that  the  churches  established  in  foreign 
lands  should  be  permanently  under  the  direction  and  control  of 
the  American  Church;  but  that  just  as  soon  as  it  seemed  wise  to 
do  so,  independent  churches  should  be  established  in  the  different 
countries,  which  should  be  encouraged  to  assume  the  full  burden 
and  responsibility  of  evangelizing  their  own  lands. 

The  Korean  Church,  outside  the  salary  and  expense  of  the 
American  missionaries  and  assistance  given  our  hospitals  and  a 
few  high  schools,  has  been  practically  self-supporting  for  years. 
We  had  ordained  elders  in  many  churches.  Most  of  the  direction 
of  local  affairs  had  already  passed  into  Korean  hands.  Looking 
forward  to  the  time  when  the  Theological  Seminary  should  grad- 
uate its  first  class  into  the  ministry  in  1907,  the  date  of  establish- 
ment of  the  Korean  Presbyterian  Church  was  set  for  that  year. 
Including  one  elder  from  each  organized  church,  the  first  Presby- 
tery would  have  more  Korean  voting  members  than  foreign  mis- 
sionaries, and  the  control  and  destiny  of  the  Church  would  hence- 
forth be  absolutely  in  their  hands.  Of  course,  that  was  just  what 
we  wanted.  We  wanted  a Korean  church,  not  an  American  church. 


39 


Nevertheless,  we  knew  there  was  danger  in  thus  intrusting  power 
to  untried  hands.  We  were  not  ignorant  of  the  experiences  of  oilr 
brethren  in  other  lands.  Nor  were  prophets  of  disaster  wanting. 
Yet  herein  lies  faith’s  victory.  We  had  confidence  in  our  Korean 
brethren.  We  knew  the  marvelous  development  of  the  church 
was  the  work  of  God  and  not  of  man.  So  we  made  our  plans  for 
1907.  Announcements  were  out  beyond  the  possibility  of  change 
or  recall  when  the  whirlwind  of  the  Japanese-Russian  War  swept 
over  the  country  and  changed  the  face  of  everything. 

Japan  won  and  Korea  went  to  the  victor.  It  was  easy  for 
Japan  because  she  already  held  Korea.  The  Koreans  had  sub- 
mitted without  resistance  to  the  military  occupation  of  their  penin- 
sula by  Japan,  regarding  it  as  a military  necessity.  Suddenly 
Korea  awoke  with  a start.  The  war  was  over  and  Japan  still  in 
Korea  with  no  intention  of  withdrawal.  She  saw  herself  stripped 
of  her  dignity  as  an  independent  nation  and  was  humiliated  beyond 
measure  by  the  return  of  her  foreign  envoys,  and  the  careless 
indifference,  even  contempt  of  foreign  nations. 

In  a day,  what  centuries  of  misrule  on  the  part  of  her  own 
rulers  had  failed  to  do,  Japanese  occupancy  accomplished:  patriot- 
ism was  born  in  Korea.  A wave  of  intense  national  feeling  swept 
over  the  land.  “Korea  for  the  Koreans,”  and,  “It  is  better  to  die 
than  to  be  slaves”  were  heard  on  every  hand.  Unable  to  resist 
the  Japanese  openly,  secret  meetings  were  held  throughout  the 
country.  Many  fled  to  the  mountains  taking  the  name  of  “we 
pyung,”  or  “righteous  army,”  and  waged  guerrilla  warfare  on  the 
Japanese.  It  is  still  dangerous  for  a Japanese  citizen  to  travel 
alone  far  from  the  fortified  cities. 

Naturally  there  arose  a call  for  every  man  to  declare  himself 
for  or  against  the  Japanese.  All  eyes  were  turned  upon  the  Chris- 
tian Church.  Many  Koreans  saw  in  the  Church  the  only  hope 
for  their  country.  There  is  no  denying  the  intense  loyalty  of  the 
Korean  Church.  Christianity  gives  men  backbones.  There 
were  not  lacking  many  hotheads  in  the  Church  itself  who  thought 
the  Church  ought  to  enter  the  fight.  The  country  wanted  a leader 
and  the  Christian  Church  was  the  strongest,  most  influential  single 
organization  in  Korea.  Had  she  departed  even  a little  from  the 
strict  principle  of  non-interference  in  politics,  thousands  would 
have  welcomed  her  leadership  and  flocked  to  her  banner.  We 
might  have  again  witnessed  the  cross  of  Constantine  leading  a 
great  army.  I believe  Korea,  like  the  Roman  Empire,  would 
have  adopted  Christianity  in  a day,  and  I believe,  too,  we  would 
have  had  another  Roman  Church. 


40 


It  took  high  courage,  coupled  with  wisdom  and  great  love  to 
lead  the  Church  aright,  to  stand  up  before  men  burning  with  indig- 
nation at  their  nation’s  loss  and  preach  the  doctrine  of  love  and 
forbearance,  and  forgiveness  even  of  enemies.  Yet  this  is  just 
vthat  the  missionaries  and  our  best  Korean  leaders  did.  Thank 
God,  the  Church,  as  a whole,  wonderfully  taught  of  the  Spirit, 
received  our  teachings  as  the  word  of  God.  But  some  were  dis- 
obedient. Everywhere  there  was  an  element  that  turned  its  face 
away.  Efforts  were  made  to  undermine  the  influence  of  the 
missionaries  and  church  officers  who  advised  submission.  Some 
of  the  Korean  leaders  were  openly  called  traitors,  some  had  their 
lives  threatened. 

About  this  time,  too,  there  returned  to  Korea  a number  of 
young  men  who  had  been  in  America  long  enough  to  get  the  “big 
head.’’  Most  of  them  professed  to  be  Christians,  but  their  Chris- 
tianity consisted  more  of  a desire  to  free  their  country,  and  of 
personal  ambition  than  of  a sincere  acceptance  of  Christ  and  a 
desire  to  do  His  will.  These  young  men  made  us  much  trouble. 
They  told  stories,  all  too  true,  we  were  forced  to  admit,  of  the 
prevalence  of  immorality,  of  drunkness  and  ungodliness  in  Amer- 
ica. “What  right  had  these  Americans,  these  foreigners,  to  lead 
the  Church  any  way!”  Some  went  to  the  length  of  saying  that 
the  Americans  more  than  the  Japanese  were  responsible  for  the 
unfortunate  condition  of  Korea.  At  different  times  mobs  arose 
and  broke  up  our  meetings.  Those  who  were  responsible  for  such 
disturbances  were  never  numerous;  but  a few  men  can  make  a 
deal  of  noise.  When  men’s  hearts  are  wrung,  a dozen  wild-eyed 
agitators  can  do  no  end  of  damage. 

The  Koreans  had  long  looked  upon  America  as  their  special 
friend.  Our  minister,  Dr.  Allen,  enjoyed  the  confidence  and 
esteem  of  the  King  and  all  the  people.  Great  was  the  disap- 
pointment everywhere  when  the  United  States,  following  England’s 
example,  hastened  to  recognize  Japan’s  control.  A violent  anti- 
foreign,  especially  anti-American,  storm  swept  over  the  land.  We 
bowed  our  heads,  not  to  the  storm,  but  to  God  in  prayer.  And 
you  let  men  get  all  mixed  up  in  their  minds,  let  some  of  them  get 
deadly  hatred  in  their  hearts  towards  those  whom  they  regard  as 
oppressors,  let  some  of  them  grow  cold  toward  their  leaders  and 
the  message  of  love  and  forgiveness  unwelcome,  and  you  have  a 
condition  the  Devil  knows  how  to  use.  It  is  impossible  to  long 
live  up  to  the  high  standards  of  the  Christian  life  in  a heathen  land 
without  the  Spirit’s  presence.  Men  with  hatred  in  their  hearts 
simply  lost  God’s  help  and  fell  easy  victims  to  temptation.  We 


41 


were  grieved  again  and  again  by  the  falling  into  sin  of  men  we  had 
trusted. 

Have  I made  the  situation  plain?  We  were  about  to  turn 
over  the  authority  of  our  Church  to  Korean  hands,  to  establish 
an  independent  Korean  Church.  Suddenly  we  found  ourselves 
in  the  dangerous  situation  described.  How  could  we  take  so 
critical  a step  at  such  a time?  Yet  we  had  to  do  what  we  had 
promised  to  do  or  break  faith  with  our  Korean  brethren.  So  it 
was  that  God  compelled  us  to  look  to  Him. 


CHAPTER  IX 
The  Pyeng  Yang  Class 

In  August  of  1906,  we  missionaries  of  Pyeng  Yang,  both  Pres- 
byterian and  Methodist,  realizing  the  gravity  of  the  situation,  met 
together  for  one  week  of  Bible  study  and  prayer.  Dr.  Hardy,  of 
Won  San,  whom  God  has  greatly  blessed,  came  to  Pyeng  Yang 
to  lead  us.  The  First  Epistle  of  John,  which  came  to  be  our  text- 
book during  the  revival,  was  selected  for  special  study.  How  often 
God’s  Word  seems  written  for  special  occasions!  We  were  seeking 
help  in  time  of  need.  The  Apostle  John  assured  us  that  everything 
depended  upon  fellowship  with  God,  and  that  Divine  fellowship 
was  conditioned  upon  love  and  righteousness.  He  who  searches 
the  deep  things  of  the  heart  took  the  Epistle  and  made  it  a living, 
personal  message.  “God  is  love  and  he  that  abideth  in  love, 
abideth  in  God  and  God  in  him.” 

We  had  reached  a place  where  we  dared  not  go  forward  with- 
out God’s  presence.  Very  earnestly  we  poured  out  our  hearts 
before  Him,  searching  our  hearts  and  seeking  to  meet  the  condi- 
tions. God  heard  us  and  gave  us  an  earnest  that  week  of  what 
was  to  come.  Before  the  meetings  closed  the  Spirit  showed  us 
plainly  that  the  way  of  victory  for  us  would  be  a way  of  confession, 
of  broken  hearts  and  bitter  tears. 

We  went  out  of  those  August  meetings  realizing  as  never 
before  that  nothing  but  the  baptism  of  God’s  Spirit  in  mighty 
power,  could  fit  us  and  our  Korean  brethren  for  the  trying  days 
ahead.  We  felt  that  the  Korean  Church  needed  not  only  to  re- 
pent of  hating  the  Japanese,  but  a clearer  vision  of  all  sin  against 
God,  that  many  had  come  into  the  Church  sincerely  believing  in 
Jesus  as  their  Saviour  and  anxious  to  do  God’s  will  without  great 
sorrow  for  sin  because  of  its  familiarity.  We  felt  that  the  whole 
Church  needed  a vision  of  God’s  holiness  to  become  holy,  that 
embittered  souls  needed  to  have  their  thoughts  taken  away  from 
the  national  situation  to  their  own  personal  relation  with  the 
Master.  We  agreed  together  at  that  time  to  pray  for  a great 
blessing  upon  our  Korean  brethren,  especially  at  the  time  of  the 
winter  Bible-study  classes  for  men  in  Pyeng  Yang. 

The  Bible-study  class  system  is  a special  feature  of  the  Korean 


43 


work.  Each  Church  appoints  a week  or  longer  some  time  during 
the  year  for  Bible  study.  All  work  is  laid  aside.  Almost  as  the 
Jews  kept  the  Passover  the  Korean  Christians  keep  these  days 
sacred  to  prayer  and  the  study  of  God’s  Word.  The  result  of 
such  uninterrupted  Bible  study  is  inevitably  a quickening  of  the 
entire  Church,  a true  revival  of  love  and  service.  Let  America 
follow  Korea’s  example  in  this  one  thing  and  the  revival  problem 
will  take  care  of  itself. 

Besides  the  classes  held  in  each  church  and  numerous  county 
and  circuit  classes,  each  Station  has  one  or  more  general  classes 
where  representatives  from  all  the  churches  assemble  in  the  center 
where  the  missionaries  live,  and  spend  from  ten  days  to  two  weeks 
in  Bible  study  and  conferences.  The  Pyeng  Yang  General  Class 
for  men  is  usually  held  the  first  two  weeks  in  January,  the  attend- 
ance averaging  for  years  between  eight  hundred  and  a thousand. 
Most  of  these  men  walk  to  Pyeng  Yang  distances  varying  from 
ten  to  one  hundred  miles.  All  come  at  their  own  expense  and  pay 
a small  tuition  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  class.  The  attendance 
from  the  country  is  so  large  that  local  Pyeng  Yang  Christians  are 
barred  to  make  room  for  the  visitors,  a special  class  being  held  for 
Pyeng  Yang  merchants  in  February. 

The  General  Class  is  divided  into  eight  sections,  each  having, 
besides  the  morning  devotional  period  and  the  half  hour  of  singing, 
three  full  hours  of  Bible  study  under  different  missionaries  and 
Korean  teachers.  At  night  a mass  meeting  for  men  is  held  at  the 
Central  Church;  women  are  excluded  for  lack  of  room. 

These  Station  Classes  give  invaluable  opportunity  to  inspire 
and  direct  and  unite  the  whole  Church  in  its  faith  and  life.  The 
strongest  men  from  all  the  churches  are  here.  A new  song  taught 
in  the  Station  Class  will  soon  be  sung  all  over  the  district.  Every 
new  thought  and  conviction  sown  here  bears  fruit  in  all  the 
churches.  This  is  why  we  prayed  especially  for  the  Pyeng  Yang 
Bible  Class. 

The  fall  of  1906  was  largely  given  up  to  country  itineration. 
No  special  meetings  could  be  held  except  a few  evenings  in  the 
Central  Church  at  Pyeng  Yang  at  the  time  of  Dr.  Howard  Agnew 
Johnson’s  visit  immediately  after  Annual  Meeting  in  September. 
Dr.  Johnson  told  the  Korean  Christians  about  the  blessings  re- 
ceived in  India  and  left  a hunger  in  many  hearts  for  similar  mani- 
festations of  God’s  grace  among  us. 

Christmas  came  and  our  scattered  force  assembled  in  Pyeng 
Yang  to  share  the  season’s  joys  together.  Usually  we  spend  the 
week  between  Christmas  and  New  Years  getting  acquainted  with 


-14 


our  families  again,  resting  in  preparation  for  the  busy  days  before 
us  of  the  Bible  Class  season.  Frequently,  the  whole  community 
will  meet  for  a social  evening,  having  the  best  time  imaginable. 
That  winter  we  had  no  heart  for  social  gatherings.  Prayer-meet- 
ings were  held  each  evening.  Methodists  and  Presbyterians  again 
uniting,  praying  definitely  for  the  Presbyterian  Class  about  to 
assemble  and  for  the  Methodist  General  Class  to  be  held  later. 
When  the  Presbyterian  Class  began  on  January  second,  the  even- 
ing prayer-meetings  had  to  be  discontinued;  but  so  strong  was  our 
desire  to  pray  that  although  most  of  the  Methodist  men  had  to  go 
to  the  country,  we  decided  to  hold  noon  prayer-meetings  daily 
during  the  class  for  those  who  could  attend.  As  Mr.  Lee  says  in 
his  brief  account  of  “How  the  Spirit  Came  to  Pyeng  Yang,”  “These 
noon  prayer-meetings  were  a very  Bethel  to  us.” 

The  evening  meetings  connected  with  the  class  began  January 
sixth  in  the  Central  Church  with  more  than  fifteen  hundred  men 
present.  Different  Missionaries  and  Korean  pastors  led  these 
meetings,  all  seeking  to  show  the  need  of  the  Spirit’s  presence  and 
the  necessity  of  love  and  righteousness.  The  meetings  were  in- 
tensely interesting  as  meetings  in  times  of  crises  always  are.  Noth- 
ing unusual  happened.  We  were  not  looking  for  anything  unusual. 
Only  a hushed,  solemn  sea  of  upturned  faces  and  eagerness  to  lead 
in  prayer  showed  how  the  Spirit  was  working. 

Saturday  night  I preached  on  First  Corinthians,  twelve, 
twenty-seven,  “Now  ye  are  the  body  of  Christ,  and  severally 
members  thereof,”  endeavoring  to  show  that  discord  in  the  Church 
was  like  sickness  in  the  body,  “and  whether  one  member  suffereth 
all  the  members  suffer  with  it,”  striving  to  show  how  hate  in  a 
brother’s  heart  injured  not  only  the  whole  Church  but  brought 
pain  to  Christ,  the  Church’s  Head.  Shortly  after  going  to  Korea, 
I had  an  accident  while  hunting  and  shot  off  the  end  of  one  of  my 
fingers.  All  the  Koreans  knew  of  this.  Holding  out  my  hand,  I 
told  the  congregation  how  my  head  ached  and  my  whole  body 
suffered  with  the  injured  finger.  The  idea  seemed  to  go  home  to 
them.  After  the  sermon  many  testified  to  a new  realization  of 
what  sin  was.  A number  with  sorrow  confessed  lack  of  love  for 
others,  especially  for  the  Japanese. 

We  went  home  that  night  confident  that  our  prayers  were 
being  answered.  Sunday  night  we  had  a strange  experience. 
There  was  no  life  in  the  meeting.  The  church  was  crowded  as 
usual,  but  something  seemed  to  block  everything.  After  the 
sermon  a few  formal  prayers  were  offered  and  we  went  home  weary 
as  from  a physical  contest,  conscious  that  the  Devil  had  been 
present,  apparentlv  victorious. 


CHAPTER  X 
The  Korean  Pentecost 

Monday  noon,  we  missionaries  met  and  cried  out  to  God  in 
earnest.  We  were  bound  in  spirit  and  refused  to  let  God  go  till 
He  blessed  us.  That  night  it  was  very  different.  Each  felt  as  he 
entered  the  church  that  the  room  was  full  of  God’s  presence.  Not 
only  missionaries  but  Koreans  testify  to  the  same  thing.  I wras 
present  once  in  Wisconsin  when  the  Spirit  of  God  fell  upon  a com- 
pany of  lumbermen  and  every  unbeliever  in  the  room  rose  to  ask 
for  prayers.  That  night  in  Pyeng  Yang,  the  same  feeling  came  to 
me  as  I entered  the  room,  a feeling  of  God’s  nearness,  impossible 
of  description. 

After  a short  sermon,  Mr.  Lee  took  charge  of  the  meeting  and 
called  for  prayers.  So  many  began  praying  that  Mr.  Lee  said, 
“If  you  want  to  pray  like  that,  all  pray,”  and  the  whole  audience 
began  to  pray  out  loudr  all  together.  The  effect  was  indescribable. 
Not  confusion,  but  a vast  harmony  of  sound  and  spirit,  a mingling 
together  of  souls  moved  by  an  irresistible  impulse  of  prayer.  The 
prayer  sounded  to  me  like  the  falling  of  many  waters,  an  ocean  of 
prayer  beating  against  God’s  throne.  It  was  not  many,  but  one, 
born  of  one  Spirit,  lifted  to  one  Father  above.  Just  as  on  the  day 
of  Pentecost,  they  were  all  together  in  one  place,  of  one  accord 
praying,  “and  suddenly  there  came  from  heaven  the  sound  as  of 
the  rushing  of  a mighty  wind,  and  it  filled  all  the  house  where 
they  were  sitting.”  God  is  not  always  in  the  whirlwind,  neither 
does  He  always  speak  in  a still  small  voice.  He  came  to  us  in 
Pyeng  Yang  that  night  wTith  the  sound  of  weeping.  As  the  prayer 
continued,  a spirit  of  heaviness  and  sorrow  for  sin  came  down 
upon  the  audience.  Over  on  one  side,  someone  began  to  weep, 
and  in  a moment  the  whole  audience  was  weeping. 

Mr.  Lee’s  account,  written  at  the  time  of  the  revival,  gives 
the  history  of  that  night  better  than  any  words,  however  carefully 
penned  three  years  later,  can  do.  “Man  after  man  would  rise, 
confess  his  sins,  break  down  and  weep,  and  then  throw  himself  to 
the  floor  and  beat  the  floor  with  his  fists  in  perfect  agony  of  con- 
viction. My  own  cook  tried  to  make  a confession,  broke  down  in 
the  midst  of  it,  and  cried  to  me  across  the  room:  ‘Pastor,  tell  me, 


46 


is  there  any  hope  for  me,  can  I be  forgiven?’  and  then  he  threw 
himself  to  the  floor  and  wept  and  wept,  and  almost  screamed  in 
agony.  Sometimes  after  a confession,  the  whole  audience  would 
break  out  in  audible  prayer,  and  the  effect  of  that  audience  of 
hundreds  of  men  praying  together  in  audible  prayer  was  something 
indescribable.  Again,  after  another  confession,  they  would  break 
out  in  uncontrollable  weeping,  and  we  would  all  w^eep,  we  couldn’t 
help  it.  And  so  the  meeting  went  on  until  two  o’clock  a.  m.,  wdth 
confession  and  weeping  and  praying.” 

Only  a few  of  the  missionaries  were  present  Monday  night. 
Tuesday  morning,  Mr.  Lee  and  I w’ent  from  house  to  house  telling 
the  good  news  to  all  wdio  were  absent,  and  to  our  Methodist  friends 
in  the  city.  That  noon  the  whole  foreign  community  assembled 
to  render  thanks  to  God. 

I wish  to  describe  the  Tuesday  night  meeting  in  my  own  lan- 
guage because  a part  of  what  happened  concerned  me  personally. 
We  were  aware  that  bad  feeling  existed  between  several  of  our 
church  officers,  especially  between  a Mr.  Kang  and  Mr.  Kim. 
Mr.  Kang  confessed  his  hatred  for  Mr.  Kim  Monday  night,  but 
Mr.  Kim  was  silent.  At  our  noon  prayer-meeting  Tuesday,  several 
of  us  agreed  to  pray  for  Mr.  Kim.  I was  especially  interested 
because  Mr.  Kang  was  my  assistant  in  the  North  Pyeng  Yang 
Church  and  Mr.  Kim  an  elder  in  the  Central  Church  and  Pne  of 
the  officers  in  the  Pyeng  Yang  Men’s  Association,  of  which  I was 
chairman.  As  the  meeting  progressed,  I could  see  Mr.  Kim  sitting 
with  the  elders  back  of  the  pulpit  wdth  his  head  down.  Bowing 
where  I sat  I asked  God  to  help  him  and  looking  up  I saw  him 
coming  forward. 

Holding  to  the  pulpit,  he  made  his  confession.  “I  have  been 
guilty  of  fighting  against  God.  An  elder  in  the  church,  I have 
been  guilty  of  hating  not  only  Kang  You -moon,  but  Pang  Mok-sa.” 
Pang  Mok-sa  is  my  Korean  name.  I never  had  a greater  surprise 
in  my  life.  To  think  that  this  man,  my  associate  in  the  Men’s 
Association,  had  been  hating  me  without  my  knowing  it.  It 
seems  that  I had  said  something  to  him  one  day  in  the  hurry  of 
managing  a school  field-day  exercise  wffiich  gave  offense,  and  he 
had  not  been  able  to  forgive  me.  Turning  to  me,  he  said,  “Can 
you  forgive  me,  can  you  pray  for  me?”  I stood  up  and  began  to 
pray,  “Apa-ge,  Apa-ge”  (“Father,  Father,”)  and  got  no  further. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  roof  was  lifted  from  the  building  and  the  Spirit 
of  God  came  down  from  heaven  in  a mighty  avalanche  of  power 
upon  us.  I fell  at  Kim’s  side  and  wept  and  prayed  as  I had  never 
prayed  before.  My  last  glimpse  of  the  audience  is  photographed 


47 


indelibly  on  my  brain.  Some  threw  themselves  full  length  upon 
the  floor,  hundreds  stood  with  arms  outstretched  toward  heaven. 
Every  man  forgot  every  other.  Each  was  face  to  face  with  God. 
I can  hear  yet  that  fearful  sound  of  hundreds  of  men  pleading  with 
God  for  life,  for  mercy.  The  cry  went  out  over  the  city  till  the 
heathen  were  in  consternation. 

As  soon  as  we  were  able,  we  missionaries  gathered  at  the 
platform  and  consulted,  “What  shall  we  do?  If  we  let  them  go  on 
like  this  some  will  go  crazy.”  Yet  we  dared  not  interfere.  We 
had  prayed  to  God  for  an  outpouring  of  His  Spirit  upon  the  people 
and  it  had  come.  Separating,  we  went  down  and  tried  to  comfort 
the  most  distressed,  pulling  the  agonized  man  to  the  floor  and 
saying,  “Never  mind,  brother,  if  you  have  sinned  God  will  forgive 
you.  Wait  and  an  opportunity  will  be  given  to  speak.” 

Finally,  Mr.  Lee  started  a hymn  and  quiet  was  restored  during 
the  singing.  Then  began  a meeting  the  like  of  which  I had  never 
seen  before,  nor  wish  to  see  again  unless  in  God’s  sight  it  is  abso- 
lutely necessary.  Every  sin  a human  being  can  commit  was 
publicly  confessed  that  night.  Pale  and  trembling  with  emotion, 
in  agony  of  mind  and  body,  guilty  souls,  standing  in  the  white  light 
of  that  judgment,  saw  themselves  as  God  saw  them.  Their  sins 
rose  up  in  all  their  vileness,  till  shame  and  grief  and  self-loathing 
took  complete  possession;  pride  was  driven  out,  the  face  of  man 
forgotten.  Looking  up  to  heaven,  to  Jesus  whom  they  had  be- 
trayed, they  smote  themselves  and  cried  out  with  bitter  wailing: 
“Lord,  Lord,  cast  us  not  away  forever!”  Everything  else  was 
forgotten,  nothing  else  mattered.  The  scorn  of  men,  the  penalty 
of  the  law,  even  death  itself  seemed  of  small  consequence  if  only 
God  forgave.  We  may  have  our  theories  of  the  desirability  or 
undesirability  of  public  confession  of  sin.  I have  had  mine;  but 
I know  now  that  when  the  Spirit  of  God  falls  upon  guilty  souls, 
there  will  be  confession,  and  no  power  on  earth  can  stop  it. 


CHAPTER  XI 
The  Results 

The  Pyeng  Yang  Class  ended  with  the  meeting  Tuesday  night. 
The  Christians  returned  to  their  homes  in  the  country  taking  the 
Pentecostal  fire  with  them.  Everywhere  the  story  was  told  the 
same  Spirit  flamed  forth  and  spread  till  practically  every  church, 
not  only  in  North  Korea,  but  throughout  the  entire  peninsula  had 
received  its  share  of  the  blessing.  In  Pyeng  Yang,  special  meet- 
ings were  held  in  the  various  churches  for  more  than  a month. 
Even  the  schools  had  to  lay  aside  lessons  for  days  while  the  chil- 
dren wept  out  their  wrongdoings  together. 

Repentance  was  by  no  means  confined  to  confession  and  tears. 
Peace  waited  upon  reparation,  wherever  reparation  was  possible. 
We  had  our  hearts  torn  again  and  again  during  those  days  by  the 
return  of  little  articles  and  money  that  had  been  stolen  from  us 
during  the  years.  It  hurt  so  to  see  them  grieve.  All  through  the 
city  men  were  going  from  house  to  house,  confessing  to  individuals 
they  had  injured,  returning  stolen  property  and  money,  not  only 
to  Christians  but  to  heathen  as  well,  till  the  whole  city  was  stirred. 
A Chinese  merchant  was  astonished  to  have  a Christian  walk  in 
and  pay  him  a large  sum  of  money  that  he  had  obtained  unjustly 
years  before. 

Just  as  soon  as  possible,  I went  to  the  country  to  look  after 
my  country  churches.  Everywhere  I found  the  people  already 
prepared,  praying  for  the  Spirit's  blessing  and  not  once  did  He 
disappoint  us.  God  seemed  anxious  that  not  one  weak  group  nor 
one  small  child  should  miss  the  blessing.  I remember  two  small 
boys,  both  nine  years  old,  the  only  believers  in  their  families,  who 
came  forward  during  the  meeting  at  Yung  You,  and  wept  griev- 
ously over  their  sins.  After  the  meeting,  they  made  me  promise 
to  pray  daily  for  their  unbelieving  parents.  Two  years  later  I 
met  the  boys  again.  One  brought  his  younger  brother  who  had 
become  a Christian  with  him  and  told  me  that  his  father  had  prom- 
ised to  become  a Christian.  The  other  stood  just  behind  and  said, 
“My  father  is  already  a Christian,”  the  happiest,  proudest  boy 
imaginable. 

One  of  my  churches,  Nam  San  Moru,  was  very  weak  and  in  a 


49 


discouraged  condition.  The  hour  this  church  wept  its  sins  out 
before  God  was  an  hour  of  new  birth  and  power.  Today,  it  is  one 
of  my  strongest  churches,  with  a congregation  of  three  hundred. 
One  afternoon  during  those  long-to-be-remembered  days,  I found 
I could  not  keep  an  appointment  to  preach  at  So  Kam,  a gold- 
mining camp  where  we  had  a few  weak  followers.  Securing  a 
horse,  I rode  to  the  church  where  the  few  Christians  were  assembled 
and  told  them  that  I must  go  back  to  the  city  at  once,  that  I would 
only  wait  to  lead  them  in  prayer.  I had  scarcely  started  to  pray, 
when  the  same  Spirit  of  sorrow  for  sin  fell  upon  that  company  of 
miners,  some  of  them  men  who  had  lived  hardened  lives  of  sin 
before  believing.  I left  them  weeping  together.  That  hour  was 
also  the  beginning  of  new  life  and  power  for  So  Kam.  They  have 
recently  built  a fine  new  church  that  will  seat  over  three  hundred. 

Some  strenuous  scenes  were  witnessed  during  the  revival. 
At  Yung  You,  where  Mr.  Lee  and  I held  a class  for  one  week  in 
February  of  that  year,  I saw  a man  arise  and  confess  that  he  had 
killed  a man  in  a valley  not  far  from  the  church,  and  fall  uncon- 
scious before  the  pulpit  so  that  we  had  to  work  over  him  to  bring 
him  to.  Such  sins  cannot  be  confessed  without  the  whole  nature 
being  torn  as  with  a death  struggle.  It  is  remarkable,  considering 
the  intensity  and  wide  extent  of  the  revival,  that  no  serious  effects 
were  reported.  The  result  was  everywhere  wholesome,  except 
where  men  deliberately  resisted  or  sought  to  deceive  the  Spirit 
and  their  brethren.  At  first,  we  were  greatly  troubled  lest  in  the 
excitement  insincere  confessions,  perhaps  from  wrong  motive 
might  be  made;  but  we  soon  found  we  could  trust  our  people  with 
God.  Sometimes  a man  would  get  up  and  make  only  partial 
confession  of  his  wrongdoings,  holding  back  the  part  he  was  really 
ashamed  of;  but  the  next  night  would  find  him  back,  pale  and 
tortured,  ready  to  rise  at  the  first  opportunity  and  confess  his 
double  sin  in  hiding  his  great  sin  the  night  before.  Once  the 
Spirit  convicted  a man,  he  seemed  to  get  no  rest  day  nor  night 
till  he  had  unburdened  his  heart  to  the  church  and  done  what  he 
could  to  repair  the  injury.  Only  in  a few  cases,  where  men  guilty 
of  sins  which  they  refused  to  confess  in  spite  of  overwhelming 
conviction  which  made  them  writhe  on  their  faces,  was  injury 
experienced.  God  waited  long  and  seemed  to  put  forth  all  His 
Divine  power  to  save  such;  but  in  the  end,  if  they  continued  to 
refuse  His  pleadings,  He  turned  from  them  and  cast  them  out. 
Sooner  or  later  the  sin  would  be  uncovered  and  the  church  learn 
just  why  it  was  that  the  brother  had  failed  to  find  help  and  peace. 

One  of  my  helpers,  the  man  named  Kang,  referred  to  as  having 


50 


been  at  enemity  with  Mr.  Kim,  had  a terrible  experience.  Night 
after  night,  he  would  be  under  conviction,  never  finding  peace. 
After  the  revival  was  over,  he  gradually  lost  interest  and  we  had 
to  remove  him  from  office.  Finally,  lie  ceased  coming  and  avoided 
me.  A full  year  later,  the  confession  of  a woman  proved  this  man 
Kang  to  have  been  guilty  of  immorality  while  he  was  a church 
officer.  He  refused  to  confess,  resisting  the  Spirit  to  the  end,  and 
God  had  to  let  him  go.  Kang  went  from  worse  to  worse,  and 
finally  became  the  keeper  of  a brothel  in  the  city.  Only  a few 
months  ago,  word  reached  me  that  he  had  attempted  to  end  his 
wretched  life  by  taking  opium. 

Outside  of  a few  cases  like  Kang’s,  the  effect  of  the  revival 
upon  the  Church  was  exceedingly  helpful  and  uplifting.  The 
whole  Church  was  washed  and  made  clean  and  sweet  and  new. 
When  we  met  to  organize  our  Independent  Korean  Church  that 
fall,  not  a word  was  heard  about  fighting,  only  a great  desire  to 
pray  and  to  preach  the  Gospel  as  soon  as  possible  to  all  Korea  and, 
if  God  wills,  to  China  and  Japan.  That  first  meeting  of  the  new 
Korean  Church  was  really  a foreign  missionary  meeting.  A 
Board  of  Foreign  Missions  was  organized.  The  Presbytery  laid 
its  hands  upon  one  of  the  first  seven  men  to  be  ordained  to  the 
Gospel  ministry,  the  most  gifted  man  in  the  class,  Xe  Ke-pung, 
and  sent  him  as  a foreign  missionary  to  the  Island  of  Quelpart, 
south  of  Korea.  The  missionary  spirit  has  taken  possession  of  the 
whole  Church,  especially  of  the  young  men  in  the  College.  Last 
year  the  Pyeng  Yang  College  and  Academy  students  raised  enough 
money  to  send  one  of  their  own  number,  Kim  Ilyung-cha,  to  Quel- 
part to  help  Ne  Ke-pung.  Kim  Hyung-cha  is  one  of  our  most 
promising  young  men.  He  would  have  graduated  from  college 
last  year;  but  we  had  to  hold  up  the  graduating  class  for  one  year 
on  account  of  insufficient  teaching  force.  He  was  spending  the 
year  helping  me  in  my  office  and  teaching  certain  classes  in  the 
College.  The  committee  met  and  elected  Kim  Hyung-cha  to  go 
to  Quelpart  without  his  knowledge.  I was  sent  to  see  him  about 
the  matter  and  found  him  sick,  lying  on  the  floor  at  his  home.  I 
put  my  hand  on  his  head.  He  was  too  feverish  to  talk  so  I simply 
said,  “Hyung-cha,  the  Missionary  Committee  met  today  and 
elected  you  to  go  to  Quelpart,  will  you  go?  Don’t  tell  me  now; 
think  it  over  and  tell  me  tomorrow.”  He  told  me  later  that  he 
turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and  fought  the  battle  of  his  life.  His 
salary  as  a missionary  would  only  be  a little  over  half  what  he  was 
then  receiving,  besides  he  was  enjoying  special  opportunities  con- 
nected with  his  work  in  the  college,  for  music  and  language  study. 


51 


But  the  call  conquered.  The  next  day  in  answer  to  my  question, 
he  said,  “I’ll  go.”  He  did  go,  and  how  the  boys  prayed  for  him 
all  the  year! 

Last  year  another  ordained  man  was  sent  by  the  Korean 
Church  to  Vladivostok  in  Russia,  to  preach  to  the  thousands  of 
Koreans  who  have  settled  in  that  section.  The  Mission  Commit- 
tee is  planning  to  send  men  into  China  proper  and  a number  of 
young  men  in  the  college  have  expressed  a desire  to  go. 

Who  can  tell  what  the  end  will  be?  The  so-called  “Million 
Movement,”  now  going  on  in  Korea  is  only  the  natural  result  of  a 
Spirit-filled,  Spirit-quickened  Church.  The  Korean  Christians 
are  resolved  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  man,  woman  and  child 
if  possible  this  year.  An  amount  of  time  to  be  given  to  house-to- 
house  preaching  aggregating  over  seventy  thousand  days  has  al- 
ready been  pledged  by  individual  Christians.  A special  effort  is 
being  made  to  place  a copy  of  one  of  the  Gospels  in  every  home. 
The  Bible  Society  is  printing  a special  edition  of  1,000,000  copies 
of  Mark’s  Gospel  to  be  used  in  the  great  campaign.  Already  this 
year  700,000  copies  have  been  sold. 

Truly  the  time  foretold  has  come.  A nation  is  being  born  in 
a day.  May  God  grant  that  the  glorious  ingathering  may  go  on 
till  not  only  Korea,  but  Japan  and  China,  and  all  the  nations  that 
have  so  long  lain  in  darkness  and  the  shadow  of  death  shall  be 
joined  to  His  Kingdom,  and  may  God  grant  to  us  here  in  America 
an  equal  portion  of  His  Spirit. 


FINIS 


